Draco & Bella
by Teagarden
Summary: After 3 years at Beauxbatons, Bella Hawthorne gets her wish to transfer to Hogwarts to be closer to childhood friend and future boyfriend (at least, according to their parents) Draco Malfoy. She's not your typical pureblood and her plans for Hogwarts involves more than just being near Draco. Will the two end up together with all the drama of school and the coming war?
1. Hogwarts Express

A/N: So, fair warning I wrote this as a junior in high school, which was about seven years ago now. I can't help but cringe when I read this, but since I decided to write and post a fanfiction for Black Butler my family has been endlessly bothering me to post this too.

Updates will be once a week since I already have the whole fourth year written. And since I saw this a lot with OC characters in Harry Potter fanfics, I'll let everyone know that this character is NOT a Mary Sue. Other than Draco the characters will be with the person they're supposed to be with.

Hogwarts Express

I, Bella Hawthorne, sat quietly in the train compartment. My parents and I had arrived at platform 9 ¾ rather early. My future fiancé, Draco Malfoy, was unaware that I was now attending Hogwarts. Narcissa Malfoy, his mother wanted it to be a surprise for him.

Draco and I had been engaged almost since the day we were born. Narcissa Malfoy and Eleanor Hawthorne, my mother, are the best of friends. Both are ladies of high society, purebloods, and both have husbands with important positions. When the two got pregnant around the same time, they spoke of how exciting it would be if one of them had a boy and the other had a girl. They were quite pleased when this occurred, and they have been planning the wedding ever since.

It's lucky that neither Draco nor I consider marrying each other to be an unpleasant prospect. The two of us grew up together. Our parents threw us together whenever they possibly could. When I was eleven my family moved to France, my mother's home country. My mother wished for me to attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic as she did, so that I could become a 'proper' lady. I am not a 'proper' lady in any sense of the word. I despised the school and everyone in it. The school and its inhabitants returned the sentiment. During those three years of hell, Draco and I regularly exchanged letters by owl.

After much prodding (with a bit of help from Narcissa and Lucius, who both adore me) I was able to convince my parents to let me attend Hogwarts instead. After all, how could they keep me away from my precious (I'm being sarcastic here) future fiancé? It also helped that my father attended Hogwarts during his schooling years.

There are a couple of reasons why I wanted to attend Hogwarts. One is that I believe I'll receive a better education at Hogwarts than I was getting at Beauxbatons (Beauxbatons taught magic, of course, but also focused heavily on manners and proper behavior for any given situation). Two is that I believe that I'll like my classmates more at Hogwarts. Third is that I would get to be with Draco and Blaise Zabini (one of my best friends). And the fourth reason is the most important one of all, a personal mission of mine, the result of which meant everything to me. Hopefully, I would succeed.

I looked up as the door to my compartment was opened, tearing me away from my thoughts. A girl with frizzy brown hair and two boys standing behind her looked in and asked, "May we sit here? Most of the compartments are already full."

"All right," I replied. I probably should have been looking for Draco, but it would be nice to make a few friends before actually arriving at the school.

"My name is Hermione Granger," the girl with frizzy brown hair said, sticking out her hand.

"Bella Hawthorne," I replied, shaking her outstretched hand.

Hermione sat next to me while the two boys who had been behind her sat down across from us. "I'm Ron Weasley," the first boy, who had red hair said.

"And I'm Harry Potter," the second boy said. My eyes widened a bit. Well, well, well, if it wasn't 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' himself. He was also, based on Draco's letter, the bane of my future fiancé's existence.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," I said with a slight smile on my face.

"I don't think I've seen you around before," Potter said. "What house are you in?"

"Actually, I'm just transferring to Hogwarts," I told them. "I was previously attending a wizarding school in France, but my family decided to move back to England, which is where we lived until I started school."

"That's strange," Weasley said. "I've never heard of anyone transferring into Hogwarts before."

Truth be told, I was rather surprised myself, but my father did have quite a bit of power and influence. "The Headmaster decided to make an exception for me, I suppose."

"Well, the three of us are in Gryffindor," Potter told me. "Our house is for the courageous of heart," he said with a slightly embarrassed smile. I was guessing that the embarrassment was from telling a pretty girl he was courageous.

"Gryffindor is the best house at Hogwarts!" Weasley testified.

I was fairly certain Draco's family would not approve of my current company, but that really wasn't my concern. Perhaps one of these three could answer a question that was very important to me. "Do any of you happen to know if the muggle studies class is very accurate?" My three companions looked at me oddly. "I have a dear friend who is a muggle, and I'm from a pureblood family," I began to clarify for them. "I don't have the faintest idea what common household items are, and it looks rather odd to my friend and her family. The other day she asked me to turn on the oven, and I didn't have the faintest idea what an oven was, let alone how to turn one on. Lucky for me, I come from a wealthy family, so she just assumes that I'm spoiled rotten at home. It's a bit of a problem."

Granger chuckled a little at my plight. "I'm muggle-born and in muggle studies," she told me. "The teacher is fairly accurate sometimes, but other times she is a long way off. If we have the class together I can help you separate what is real and what the wizarding world has merely assumed."

"Thanks," I said, smiling at her. I know, I know, you are in disbelief that someone from a family that is friends with the Malfoys could possibly have a muggle friend, but my choices are my own and I don't care what anyone says. I do share many characteristics with other purebloods, but I never really understood the whole prejudice thing. My parents, who are not exactly fond of muggles or muggle-borns, weren't thrilled at my being friends with a muggle. However, my parents consider prejudices to be a weakness and a disadvantage. They did not want to pass their prejudice on to me, so I got to keep my muggle friend, though it's not something that my parents share with their pureblood companions.

"What other classes are you interested in?" Granger asked me.

"Oh, arithmancy, ancient runes, and potions I suppose." Hermione's eyes lit up when I mentioned arithmancy and ancient runes and we spent the next hour discussing them and various other scholastic topics.

Hermione's two friends spent the time talking about the quidditch world cup. Since tickets were on sale while my family was moving from France to England, we had been too busy to get tickets. I was jealous of those who had been able to go, and didn't particularly wish to discuss it. I was sure I would hear all about it from Draco, who had gone with his parents. Luckily, Granger had little interest in talking about quidditch.

I was thrilled to learn that Granger was as much of an intellectual as I was. It seemed like she and I could be very good friends. Of course, my brains may be a bit of a problem soon. I was worried that I would get sorted into the house of Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin. That would make my personal mission a bit harder. Speaking of missions, it was about time I went to find Draco.

When there was a break in the conversation I stood up and said, "I'm going to go change into my school robes." Hopefully, Draco would be on my way to the changing room. Otherwise, I might have to search the whole train for him.

On my way to the changing room there was a group of students standing in my way. One of them was tall and had white-blond hair. Looks like I got lucky. The other people around him were likely to be lackeys. Draco was the type of guy who would have lackeys.

Since Draco's back was to me I walked quietly, so he wouldn't hear me coming. Blaise was the only one who saw me approaching and he smiled when he saw me. He wasn't shocked to see me as I'd told him I was going to try to convince my parents to let me come to Hogwarts. I'd also told him not to tell Draco. I put my finger over my lips and Blaise looked away from me so he wouldn't draw any attention to me.

As I came up to Draco I put my hands over his eyes and whispered in his ear, "Guess who." Draco froze. He probably knew it was me, but couldn't believe it. After all, he thought I was in France.

I removed my hands from his eyes and asked, "Miss me?" as Draco craned his neck to look at me.

"My mother told me I'd be getting a surprise this year, but I certainly didn't expect for you to be the surprise," Draco stated before turning around hugging me.

"This was better than anything you imagined, wasn't it?" I said before hugging him back. Though Draco had his faults, I did care for him dearly (though I didn't always show it) and I was glad to be near him again. It was then that I noticed a pug faced girl glaring at me. I vaguely wondered with amusement if she had a crush on Draco. I had known Draco my entire life, and not to sound obnoxious, but she didn't stand a chance against me. I was intelligent, clever, had a vivacious personality, and was slightly malicious and eccentric. And it certainly didn't hurt that I am positively gorgeous. I have soft, dark, curly hair that goes halfway down my shoulder blades, a great body, perfect skin, and bright green eyes that practically glow. I have met few girls that match me in the looks department.

"Please," Draco said, smirking, "I may have been the one who got the surprise, but _you're_ the one who has the privilege of going to school with _me_." Typical Draco. "You look great." Draco looked at me admiringly. I supposed he had yet to see me with my new womanly figure yet.

"You too. It appears both of us have grown up a bit in the past three years." Draco had always been a cute kid but he was very attractive now that he was older.

After hugging Draco I moved on to hug Blaise while the rest of the little group looked on in curiosity. "It's great to see you again," I told Blaise.

"You too," he said. I'm an only child and I'd always sort of viewed Blaise as my brother. Growing up he had often played with Draco and me.

After that exchange came the introductions. The pug faced girl was named Pansy Parkinson. The other three people in the group were Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Adrian Pucey. I had met the three boys before when I was quite young, though I hadn't recognized them. I'd shoved both tweedle-dum and tweedle-dummer into a river, and I'd pushed Adrian down a well. I thought it was amusing, their parents, however, no longer visited anywhere my parents were with their sons after that if I happened to be with them. Imagine that.

"Well, I'm off to change into my school robes. I'll see you soon, Dray. Bye Blaise." I walked through the rest of the group and on to the changing room.

When I got out from changing into my school robes, Adrian Pucey was standing there. He looked smarmy to me. "Well Bella, seeing as you're just coming to this school, it looks like you'll need someone to show you around." Apparently he did not remember the well incident. That could have something to do with the concussion it gave him.

"No thanks," I told him with a strained smile. "I think I can manage on my own."

"Oh come on," he prodded. "It's a big school, and it's easy to get lost. We would hate for that to happen, wouldn't we?" Adrian was standing so I couldn't get past him. Not without forcefully removing him, anyway. He was beginning to get on my nerves. Seeing and talking to him here was bad enough, I was hardly going to allow him to show me around the school. It'd be nice if I could just say that I belonged with Draco, but can you imagine being fourteen and telling your classmates you're already engaged? That was something that definitely was not going to happen.

Just when I was about to tell Adrian exactly where he could put his idea, two tall boys who looked similar to Ron Weasley and were obviously twins came up behind Adrian and asked, "Is this boy bothering you, miss?"

I smiled at them and answered, "Why yes, he is."

One of them put something down the back of Adrian's robes. Within three seconds whatever it was exploded. Adrian shrieked and ran off, cursing the twins. Into pranks, were they? I'd been known to dabble in such things myself.

"Nothing like saving damsels in distress and pranking Slytherins to start off a new school year," one of the twins said cheerfully.

The other twin grabbed my hand and jokingly bowed low over it. "Might we have the pleasure of knowing the damsel's name?" he asked teasingly.

I smiled and said, "The damsel's name is Bella Hawthorne. Do her two white knights have names?"

"Fred and George Weasley at your service," the twin who had put the exploding object in Adrian's cloak said with a flourish of his arms. So they _were_ related to Ron. "I'm Fred and he's George. We haven't seen you around before. What house are you in?"

"I'm new actually. This will be my first year at Hogwarts, and my fourth year in school."

"Well then, best of luck in the sorting process," the two said at the same time. Talking in synchronization, now that was talent.

"Thanks for the help. See you around." I gave the twins a little wave as I walked back towards my compartment.

"That took a little while," Granger commented when I returned. "Did you get lost?"

I replied, "No. I ran into Weasley's older brothers. Nice blokes."

"Yeah," Weasley said, "until they decide to prank you."

"Well, what's life without a few laughs?" I asked, holding my arms out to the side and shrugging my shoulders.

The rest of the train ride was filled with Weasley and Potter discussing quidditch, with my occasional input, and Hermione telling me all there was to know about Hogwarts. I was warned that someone to stay away from at all costs was Draco Malfoy. That was a little awkward and a bit amusing. I wasn't quite sure how to tell them that that would be an impossibility without alienating Hermione. This I had no desire to do. It was hard for me to make friends with girls for some reason (they tended to be jealous of my looks, and have the odd belief that I would try and steal their boyfriends), and I was really hoping to be good friends with Hermione.


	2. Sorting

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Also, in case anyone thinks it's weird that I mention boys and girls going to Beauxbatons I'll just put in a reminder that only the movie made Beauxbatons on all girls school. In the book boys and girls attended there.

Sorting

The Hogwarts Express finally arrived at Hogwarts. The rain outside was coming down in torrents. Through the rain I could make out that the school was a castle, and it was positively magnificent. Going to Hogwarts was definitely going to be better than going to Beauxbatons. Hogwarts was grand, while Beauxbatons had been more delicate and ostentatious. I'd lost my train companions while exiting the train, but I spotted Draco a few yards away and joined him. "What happened to you on the train?" He asked. "You didn't come back after changing into you school robes."

"I went back to sit with the people I had been sitting with for the first part of the train ride. I had been having a nice conversation with one of them and I wished to continue it," I said as the two of us plus the group I'd met in the hall of the train, minus Pucey (thank goodness), got into a carriage that would take us to the school. There was nothing pulling the carriage. That was odd. I briefly wondered what made them move.

"How are you going to be sorted?" Draco asked me. He was sitting beside me with his arm around my shoulders. It wasn't necessarily a tender gesture, more like an 'oh look, this is mine' gesture.

Parkinson, who was sitting across from me, said snidely, "She'll probably have to go up with the first years. How embarrassing. You really should have taken the boats up to the castle, like the rest of the new students." Somehow I didn't think the two of us were going to be friends.

"As I understand it," I began, "there is a bit of a gap between when the students arrive and when the first years are sorted. During that time I'll be brought to the Headmaster's office to be sorted."

"Not that there's any doubt about where you'll end up," Blaise stated. "You may be smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, but you're much too devious and . . . pragmatic to be sorted into there." I was fairly certain that Blaise had substituted pragmatic in place of a harsher word.

I was a little nervous as the carriage pulled up to the castle. I wasn't quite sure how this was going to work. I believed that there would be a professor at the entrance, waiting for me. As I entered the school for the very first time (the other students went on as they'd already been, but I was a little in awe, the inside of Hogwarts was as grand as the outside) my nervousness vanished.

The professor sent to retrieve me happened to be one that I knew. It was Professor Severus Snape. A friend of my family's and a dear friend to me.

I was born with a breathing problem where my airways will occasionally not work well, or at all. The hospital was unable to do much for me, so my parents went to Snape. He developed a potion that I could take whenever my airways started to malfunction that would help me breath. Unfortunately, the process for making the potion is incredibly complex, so Snape must continually brew the potion for me. He plans to teach me how to do it myself when my potion making skills are more advanced (while both my parents are good at potions, their ability to brew the potion is not up to Snape's exacting standards).

I waved goodbye to Draco and Blaise as I walked up to Professor Snape. "Good evening, Professor Snape."

"Good evening Miss Hawthorne, if you would follow me." I walked slightly behind Snape as he left the entrance hall and began walking through the corridors. I was glad we left when we did, as shortly after a short ghost flew up and began pelting those who entered the school with water balloons. How charming. "That would be Peeves," Professor Snape mentioned. After a second I realized that he was referring to the ghost, "Our resident poltergeist."

I looked around a bit as I walked with professor Snape and realized that Pucey hadn't been kidding, this place _was_ huge. Hopefully I wouldn't get lost. "It is a pleasure to have you joining us at this school, Hawthorne."

"Thank you very much Professor Snape. I'm quite grateful that Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to give me a chance at this school. Hogwarts was where I had originally wanted to attend school, but you know my mum. She tends to be rather set in her ways."

"Yes, quite," he agreed.

We quickly came to a flight of stairs that was guarded by a gargoyle. Snape said, "Fudge flies," and the gargoyle jumped out of the way. "I trust that I will be seeing you in my house soon, Miss Hawthorne. Good luck." With that, Snape turned and began walking back the way we had come.

I hurried up the stairs to Dumbledore's office. It wouldn't do for me to hold up the whole sorting process. Ceremony. Whatever it was called. Who cared anyway?

I opened the door at the top of the steps and saw an old man with long white hair and a long white beard. "Ah! You must be Bella Hawthorne. I am Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of this school. Welcome to Hogwarts," he said.

"Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure to be here."

"Come, sit here on this chair, and we'll see where the sorting hat will place you."

The sorting hat was a very old and dingy hat. I sat down and the Headmaster placed it on my head. "Well now, what's this?" The hat asked. I startled a bit. A magical hat that could speak was what decided what house students would be placed in? How interesting. I wondered what type of magic animated the hat. "It's been a long time since I've been placed upon the head of a student who is not a first year," the hat told me. "Anyways, on to business. That's quite a mind you've got here, though I believe that the best place for it would be SLYTHERIN!" I jumped a bit again. There was no need for him to yell with just me and the Headmaster present.

The Headmaster removed that hat from my head. "Congratulations Miss Hawthorne. I believe that Slytherin was the house that you wished for. Anyways, may all your endeavors be successful."

I looked at him curiously. That was a bit of an odd thing to say.

Just then, another professor entered the room. "This is Professor McGonagall," the Headmaster told me, while handing her the sorting hat. "She will be teaching you transfiguration. Professor McGonagall, this is Bella Hawthorne, a transfer student from Beauxbatons."

"It's nice to meet you, dear," she said in a bit of a rush. "We'd best hurry down to the Great Hall, Albus."

"Indeed Minerva. If you would follow us, Miss Hawthorne?" The three of us trekked back towards the entrance hall, then into a large dining area. It was just as Hermione had told me; the roof looked exactly like the night sky. How quaint to eat beneath it.

I walked over to the Slytherin table and looked around until I found Draco. He had left a space next to his right side.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Not bad. The hat's a little weird though."

"How long did it take for the hat to sort you?" Draco asked. "It sorted me into Slytherin the moment it touched me head." Draco said with arrogance.

"I'm not sure. Maybe twenty seconds." I wasn't in the habit of timing how long I had hats upon my head.

The noisy Great Hall quieted down a little when the first years entered through the main doors. The sorting process went fairly quickly. Though, aside from the hat's song at the beginning (which I found to be rather enjoyable), I didn't pay much attention to it. I didn't even know the names of the students in my year; I hardly needed to clutter my head with the names of students whom I would likely never speak to.

When the last of the first years had been sorted, Dumbledore stood up and began to speak. "Along with our new first years, we also have another new student at Hogwarts who is in her fourth year. Her name is Bella Hawthorne, and she transferred here from a wizarding institution in France. If you would please stand up for a moment Bella?" I stood up, cursing his name. Having an entire school look at you is not my idea of a good time. "As you can see, she has already been sorted into Slytherin. It would be nice if her fellow classmates would help her around the school until she becomes used to the way we do things here at Hogwarts."

I sat back down. Hopefully, I would not receive a bunch of offers from boys to show me around the school. I suppose that if things were different I might enjoy the attention, but as things were (I'm referring to my arranged marriage), what was the point? Okay, so maybe I would enjoy the attention a little, but it was sure to get old fast.

Professor Dumbledore then went on to state that the quidditch tournament would not take place this year. I agreed with the outraged noises coming from my peers; I had been hoping to try out for chaser. Before Dumbledore could go on to explain why there would be no quidditch tournament this year, what looked like a rather battered professor walked in. He had a peg leg, a psychotic eye that appeared to have a mind of its own, and wild looking hair. He was introduced as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I found it rather unprofessional of him to barge in during the middle of the Headmaster's speech. After the interruption, Dumbledore continued on with his speech and spoke of the Triwizard Tournament, about how it was a way for students to prove themselves and to grow, but most of all it was about having good relations between wizarding schools from different countries.

Oh no. No, no, no, no. It could not possibly be. Dumbledore went on to state the other two schools that were involved. It was. Apparently it was absolutely possible. I just barely get to leave those pompous, looks-obsessed, snotty girls and boys over at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and now they were coming here. It was just too awful to comprehend. It felt like they were stalking me. Hopefully, I could avoid them all. I was sure that if Madame Olympe Maxime spotted me there would be many snide comments all around. Hopefully, since all of the students would be older, none of them would know me. Then again, it may be all over Beauxbatons that one of the students _voluntarily_ decided to leave. It could very well be a huge scandal there. Scandals are quite big at Beauxbatons. Scandals always tend to be popular within 'high society' and Beauxbatons students consider themselves to be their own little high society.

My first meal at Hogwarts was quite hearty. Unlike at Beauxbatons, they served you a _lot _of food with much variety. Beauxbatons only served a limited amount so that the one could be ladylike or gentlemanly even whilst eating, and so that no one would consume more than 'the proper amount of food'. I don't care what they said; eating food is not an art, it is a necessity, and so long as everyone employed general eating manners, it was good all around. Crabbe and Goyle, who were sitting across from me, did not appear to either know or understand general eating manners. Or any eating manners at all, really.

"Where are the Slytherin dorms?" I asked Draco.

"Near the dungeons," he answered. How charming. "When we get down there you'll be told the password to get into the common room. All of the common rooms are protected by a portrait or a wall and you have to know the password to get in." Of course. We would hate for people from different houses to be in the same common room, now we wouldn't we?

After dinner, the Slytherins (along with the other three houses) began making their way towards their common rooms. The first years were led by prefects. I took a different way down along with Blaise, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle so that we wouldn't have to, "deal with the snot-nosed first years", as Draco put it. A bit amusing that he would say that as I'm sure that he had never considered himself to be a snot-nosed first year.

It was a bit drafty around the Slytherin common room, but it was a splendid room. The color scheme, unsurprisingly, was silver and green. The color scheme of the dorm rooms was much the same. The dorm rooms would have been fairly nice except for the company that I would be keeping. This was definitely not a place where I would spend much time. My dorm mates were Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Tracy Davis. I may have been able to get along all right with Bulstrode if not for the fact that she was apparently good friends with Parkinson. Going by the reception that I received from Bulstrode, I assumed that Parkinson had spoken to her about me during dinner.

"That's just great," Bulstrode began, "we have to share our dorm with the new girl. You had better not bother us about where things are or how things are done here. And you had better not get in our way."

Oh no, no, no, this just would not do. I could hardly let these girls walk all over me, now could I? Well, they would learn very quickly that crossing me just was not conducive to a healthy life. I took my wand (11 inches, holly, unicorn hair) out of my robes and pointed it at Bulstrode. "_Langlock_!" I said. It was a spell that glued one's tongue to the roof of their mouth. It was created by Professor Snape. He had told me all about it a summer or two ago when he came to visit my family in France. Actually, he had told my father all about it, but I happened to be in the room, and I always pay strict attention when people around me are talking about magic that I have never done before.

"You can't do magic on the students!" Parkinson exclaimed. What a stupid girl, to say such a thing to someone who was armed when she herself was not. I repeated the spell on her. Tracy appeared to be a quiet girl who did not wished to get involved. Fine, then. She hadn't done anything to me, so I would keep her out of it.

"The day that I ask either of you for help is that day that the Chudley Cannons win the World Cup." I stated threateningly. "I neither want nor need the help of such utterly pathetic individuals. And it is the two of _you _who will stay out of _my _way, for if I happen to find you there, you will not like what follows." Perhaps I should threaten them with my surname as well. Either they were unfamiliar with the name Hawthorne, or they hadn't put together that I was a Hawthorne from the prominent pureblood family Hawthorne, but either way the Hawthornes were much more important and had much more influence than the Parkinsons or the Bulstrodes, I was sure. I highly doubted that these two's families would appreciate them bringing my family's and the Malfoy family's (for the two often did things in tandem) wrath down upon them.

No, I decided. It would be too Draco of me to do such a thing. I could handle this myself. Besides, both the girls looked rather cowed by what had happened. Apparently they had not expected me to whip out my wand and hex them. Their miscalculation.

"Now then, we've got a big day tomorrow, it being our first day of school and all. I suggest that we all get to bed now!" I said cheerfully. Parkinson and Bulstrode gave me wide, panicked eyes. "Oh don't worry. I'll take the hex off in the morning."


	3. First Day

A/N: I apparently had an unhealthy love for the word 'that' when I was in high school. I swear, I had to take out fifteen 'thats' when I went through to edit this.

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

First Day

I got up before my dorm mates the next day and removed the hex. I did not wish to speak with those two more than necessary. I prepared myself for the day (clothes, hair, make-up (though I hardly need it), etc.), and then went down to the common room. Blaise was sitting in one of the chairs. I sat down in the chair next to him.

"Are you excited for your first day at Hogwarts?" he asked me.

"Absolutely," I told him. "I'm betting classes here will be much more fun than classes at Beauxbatons were. The company ought to be more fun as well."

"Especially since you have classes with your house, so Draco and I will be in most of your classes." That probably went for my dorm mates as well. Lovely. Though I probably had at least three classes without them. I doubted that many Slytherins would be in muggle studies due to the prejudice thing. Also arithmancy and ancient runes were not a part of the general education system at Hogwarts, so there wasn't likely to be very many Slytherins in those classes.

More Slytherins started getting up, and as soon as Draco (along with Crabbe and Goyle, who I believed to be his two main lackeys, funny that the two were not regularly mentioned in his letters) entered the common room we went to the Great Hall for breakfast. I knew that lackeys followed their leader around, but this was a little ridiculous. I had yet to see Draco without them.

Shortly after we sat down to eat, my two favorite dorm mates came up behind me. "What do you want?" I asked in an annoyed tone. Could I not at least eat in peace? It was bad enough to have to sleep in the same room as them. The two tried to discreetly point to their throats with annoyed looks on their faces. You have got to be kidding. They thought that the hex was still in place. What idiot wouldn't at least _try_ to talk? I hoped that not all of my housemates were this stupid. People in Slytherin are supposed to be ambitious (the sorting hat said so yesterday). Aren't people with great ambition supposed to have at least _some _cleverness? "I already removed the hex, you fools. Go away." They blushed and walked away with their heads ducked, looking angry and embarrassed.

"What was that about?" Draco asked.

"Oh, nothing much. There was a minor problem in our dorm room last night. Nothing that couldn't be fixed with a bit of magic."

"It seems our Bella is getting along with the other girls in her usual manner," Blaise said to Draco. "She never did play well with others, especially members of the same sex. That's why we were practically her only friends growing up."

"It's rude to talk about other people in third person when they are present, Blaise," I said in a haughty tone. Though, what he said was true. I had not played well with others growing up. Personally, I blamed my parents. The only children they set me up to play with were spoiled, rude, incredibly annoying, or some combination of those three characteristics. Being a bit of a brat myself, how could I possibly have been expected to get along with them? I only became friends with Draco and Blaise because I had known them from the day of my birth (literally) and our parents were best friends. However, even with Draco and Blaise I often get into fights with them. It happened more with Draco than with Blaise. Blaise was sort of the peace keeper between the two of us. Of course, when we were younger Blaise had often ended up siding with Draco (it was the whole male solidarity thing, and young boys often thought girls were naturally inferior to them).

"What's your first class, Bella?" Blaise asked me.

I looked down at my schedule to make sure I said the right one.

Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday

Muggles Studies Arithmancy DADA History of Magic DADA

Potions Charms Ancient Runes Transfiguration DADA

Herbology Transfiguration Break Potions Break

Herbology Ancient Runes Arithmancy Potions Charms

"Muggle studies," I replied. There was a bit of silence. Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle all looked at me in disbelief.

"Studying the quarry are we?" Blaise asked in a tight voice.

I gave him an odd look. "No," I said slowly. "Muggles are something that are a big part of our world, and I know very little about them. I think that it would be interesting to learn more."

Draco scoffed at me. "Sometimes you go too far with your thirst for knowledge. You must be the only self-respecting Slytherin who would take such a class." Well then, apparently I was the only self-respecting Slytherin who wished to be well informed. Their loss I supposed. My parents were correct, prejudices were a disadvantage. You knew that something was a disadvantage when it began interfering in one's search for knowledge.

"Think whatever you like, but do either of you happen to know where the class is situated? And could you perhaps direct me in that direction?"

"It's on this floor. You go through the hall to the left of the grand staircase and to the third corridor on the left hand side. I think," Blaise told me. Getting around this school was definitely going to be complicated. Especially since, as I had heard from Hermione, the staircases moved.

"You'd better not become friends with any of the muggle loving freaks in that class," Draco warned me. Yes, because I truly wanted friend advice from him. I could never take friend advice from someone who had even a cordial relationship with Parkinson.

"Yeah, right. Who would _want_ to be friends with those losers?" Crabbe asked. It spoke! I had been beginning to wonder. Perhaps he and his friend merely needed great concentration to eat. Or maybe they just weren't morning or evening people.

"Well, I'm off to class," I stated. "I want to make sure I can find it, and I would hate to be late on my first day. I'll see you all later." I grabbed my bag and walked towards where Blaise had said the class was. It appeared a few other students were on their way to class as well.

When I got to the room, there were already a few students in there. Hermione Granger was one of them. Then this probably was the correct class. I went over and sat by her. "Hello!" I said in a friendly voice. "All right there?"

Granger gave me a very odd look. "You're in Slytherin." She told me. Did she believe that I was unaware of this fact?

"And you're in Gryffindor. What of it?"

She looked confused. "All the Slytherins hate muggles and muggle-borns." Isn't it so nice when someone that you hardly know knows something about you that you don't know about your own self?

"Well, apparently not since I'm here."

"So you weren't lying about your muggle friend?"

"Why would I lie about that?" What, was this girl paranoid? "We got along well on the train, why wouldn't we get along well now? I'm still the same person; I was just sorted into Slytherin. Not all Slytherins are evil, you know. My father, Richard Hawthorne, was in Slytherin and he was never a death eater." I turned away from her. It was true; my father had never joined the Dark Lord. Though my parents believed in some of his principles, they were far from being short-sighted people. A world ruled by the Dark Lord would be a world in turmoil. Muggle-borns would be hunted down; muggles would be rounded up and destroyed. My parents had no desire to raise their only child in such a tumultuous world, yet they did not want to alienate people who would be useful friends in case you-know-who won. So, my parents stayed neutral during that whole ordeal.

Here she was, calling the Slytherins prejudice, yet she immediately placed me into some category just because I was put into Slytherin? Although, it could be that she was correct. I only knew a few of the Slytherins, but their parents, and probably they themselves were prejudiced. I couldn't be the only one in Slytherin who wasn't, could I? That might make things a bit awkward.

Granger looked uncomfortable. "Sorry. Being muggle-born I get harassed a lot by the Slytherins."

Just then Professor Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor, walked into the room and Granger and I ceased our conversation. "Good morning class. Please get out your book _Muggles and their Innovations _and turn to chapter one."

The class was rather interesting. It was odd to learn about a whole other civilization that was parallel to our own. Granger would occasionally make comments to me during class when Professor Burbage taught something incorrectly, or interpreted something wrongly. Some of the things that were off were rather amusing. I could see why Granger wanted to take this class even though she was muggle-born. I suppose if things were different and the entire world knew about the wizarding world than it would be interesting to take a muggle class on the magical world to see how they viewed us.

I turned to Granger after class and said, "Thanks for the help, Granger. Actually, may I call you Hermione?" The fastest way to become friends was to get on a first name basis.

"You're welcome. Actually, I think it's fun to have someone to tell the correct information to. Inaccuracies really bother me. And yes, you may call me Hermione.

"Listen, I'm not sure how well you know your way around the school yet, but we've got potions together next and I was wondering if you wanted me to walk down there with you."

Awww. Didn't that just make you all warm inside? After going to a school for three years where I had no friends there at all, it certainly made me all warm inside. "I'd love to," I replied.

"What other classes are you taking?" Hermione asked me.

"Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy."

"Well then, it looks like we'll be together for four classes. Muggle Studies, Potions, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy." That was great. I would have almost half of my classes with my (hopefully) new friend.

"Do you like Potions class?" I asked Hermione.

"I suppose I like actual potion making, but I'm not too fond of the teacher. Professor Snape favors the Slytherins horribly." Well, that was not thrilling news. Snape was someone I held great respect for. It would be a shame if he did favor his own house.

We soon reached the potions room. Only about half the class was in the room, but all the Gryffindors were on one side, and all the Slytherins were on the other. Apparently these people were not a friendly bunch. I suppose it was because of things like this that made Hermione so suspicious of me being in Slytherin.

Draco was one of the students already in the class, so I went and sat by him. "Hello," he said, putting his arm over the back of my chair. "How was your first class? Repulsive? Disgusting?"

"Actually, Draco, it was quite interesting. I believe I'm going to enjoy that class." Draco sneered at my response.

"Are you sure that going to Beauxbatons didn't screw with your head?"

"It most certainly did, but not on this subject."

I noticed when Parkinson and Bulstrode walked into the classroom. Parkinson got a sour look on her face when she saw me sitting by Draco. I was really going to have to find some way to cure that attitude problem of hers. I figured our little exchange last night had not been enough, though I had hoped it would be. The two of them moved to sit in a row behind Draco and I. Thankfully, it was not the row directly behind us as Blaise was already sitting there with some boy. I would not have been comfortable having the two harlots sit there.

Blaise noticed I was looking behind me and took the opportunity to introduce me to the boy sitting next to him. "Bella, this is Theodore Nott. Theodore, this is Bella Hawthorne, the girl who transferred to Hogwarts."

"Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, holding out his hand with a flirty smile on his face.

"Hi," I replied giving him my hand. My own smile was rather strained. With the boys at Beauxbatons I had not wanted to be friends with any of them, so I had no trouble flirting with them in order to use them whenever I had the need. Hogwarts was a different matter, and this boy was in my house. It was possible that he was a future friend, and I would not flirt with a future friend in the same way that I would flirt with the average guy. Therefore, I was at a bit of a loss for what I should do.

Lucky for me, Draco noticed the look on Nott's face and was not pleased. "Oy, watch it Nott." Draco's arm moved from the back of my chair to on top of my shoulders.

The smile instantly disappeared from Nott's face. "Sorry Draco. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Good morning class," Professor Snape said as he strode to the front of the room. "Hopefully, some of you saw fit to open up your school books over the summer. O.W.L.s are next year, and as things stand many of you are not prepared. Let's see how many of you bothered to study, shall we?

"Name one potion I would use armadillo bile in."

I raised my hand. "Hawthorne?"

"Armadillo bile would be used in a wit-sharpening potion, Professor."

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin. What part of a bicorn is most useful for potion making?"

I raised my hand again, and again I was called on. "The horn, Professor."

"Very good. Another five points to Slytherin. What are the two most important ingredients in the Draught of Peace? Miss Hawthorne?"

"Moonstone and syrup of hellebore are the two most important ingredients." I stated, earning five more points for Slytherin.

When Snape asked a fourth question I looked around before raising my hand, wondering if I was the only one trying. Hermione was waving her hand high in the air with an impatient look on her face. Oh. Apparently, I was not the only one trying to answer questions, and it appeared as though Hermione was right about Snape being biased. Snape looked at me expectantly and I looked down at my desk. He finally, reluctantly said, "Yes, Granger?" She answered correctly, yet Professor Snape moved on rather than awarding any points to Gryffindor. Okay then. That was good to know I supposed. It was a shame he was biased, especially since he had a grand student like Hermione. I was impressed she knew the answer to the Draught of Peace question. It was a potion we were supposed to learn our fifth year, as I understood it. I knew about it because my parents expected me to be exceptionally knowledgeable and told me about many things beyond what I learned in school, but Hermione didn't have that same advantage, being muggle-born like she was. I also had my parent's old school books to read from.

I enjoyed the class. Speaking with Snape about the potion for my condition and about his job at Hogwarts while I was growing up had given me a great love of potions. I thrilled in the subtle art of potion making, and now I finally had an excellent teacher. The potions teacher at Beauxbatons had neither the knowledge nor the passion about potions that Professor Snape did.

After potions was lunch, and then double herbology with Ravenclaw. I was hoping to talk to Hermione before lunch, so I rushed after her when class ended. Weasley and Potter looked shocked and repulsed when I came up to their group. Great, more people who didn't like me because I was in Slytherin. Was our camaraderie on the train so easily forgotten? I decided to ignore the two of them. "Sorry about what happened in class, Hermione. I didn't realize you were raising your hand as well. You weren't kidding when you said Professor Snape was biased."

Hermione gave me a small smile at me. "Don't worry about it, Bella. That was nice of you to stop answering when you realized you weren't the only one with answers. You knew the answer to the last question, didn't you?"

I was about to admit that yes, I had known, when a shocked voice exclaimed, "Bella!" I looked around it. It was Draco. He was looking at me with disbelief and disgust on his face. "What are you doing?"

I found this question a bit confusing, as it was perfectly obvious what I was doing. "I'm having a conversation. You know, when one person speaks, and then another person speaks in response to what the first person said." Potter and Weasley snickered at my retort.

"What did I say about becoming friends with the scum in your Muggle studies class?" Beside me, Hermione stiffened. I was surprised at this comment. Draco had been raised to be at least nominally polite, of this I was certain. Perhaps his parents taught him that there was no need to be polite to people whom they did not deem to be important.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"You heard me. What do you think you're doing cavorting with their kind? What do you think your parents would say?" Their kind? And just what did he mean by that?

"My parents," I hissed, "are more impressed by one's intelligence than one's bloodline. Their wish is for me to have bright and quick-witted friends. Beyond that, they don't much care." Perhaps that wasn't one hundred percent true, but it was close enough. If Draco chased off my almost friend, he would sorely regret it. "Another thing about having conversations is that people who are not invited into them and are often not welcome in them."

Draco glared at me. "Your parents will hear about this." After saying that, he stalked away, tweedle-dum and tweedle-dummer in hot pursuit of him. He seemed to fall back on that a lot; threatening to tell either his parents or my parents this or that, depending upon the results that he wanted. He said my parents, but he probably really meant both our parents. While I believed my parents would be able to handle my being friends with Hermione, I knew that Draco's would not. Hopefully my parents could talk them down from harassing me, and hopefully my parents would not side with the Malfoys. Don't get me wrong, I was fond of Narcissa and Lucius, but their taste in company tended to leave something to be desired.

"I find myself needing to apologize to you again, Hermione," I said as I turned back towards her.

"And again, what happened was beyond your control. Thanks though. Is it true what you said about your parents?"

"Absolutely, if I brought someone home who was, shall we say, less than intelligent, they would be horrified."

"No wonder you were so brilliant in potions," Weasley commented. "You'd probably get kicked out of your house if you weren't."

I made a noncommittal sound. How rude of him to speak to me after I had decided to ignore him. "Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow in Arithmancy, Hermione?"

"Yes," she said smiling. "I'll see you later, Bella." She waved and walked off with her two friends.

Now, off to lunch where I would have to deal with Draco. I supposed I could find Pucey and sit with him. Not. Perhaps I could solve this little issue with Draco before he told our parents anything.

When I got to the Slytherin table Parkinson was sitting next to Draco with Goyle on Draco's other side. That girl was seriously beginning to grate on my nerves. Did she honestly believe I would let her sit there? It would probably have been easier to make Goyle move, but I was not having Parkinson around for this conversation. Draco ignored me as I came up to him, but Parkinson sneered, "Hello, _muggle_-_lover_." Apparently, she had either overheard our conversation or been told of it.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. She was just too stupid. "If someone truly loves something, they are not bothered by it being stated."

"What?" She asked angrily, looking confused. Parkinson seemed to think I was trying to trick her. Sure I was. With logic, that is. Of course, only fools can be tricked by logic.

"First, you stupid girl, if I loved muggles, what you said would be a simple statement to me, not an insult. Second, not being prejudiced against a certain group does not mean that one holds sentimental feelings for them. Third, I could never be insulted by anything that you ever said to me, for to be insulted by a fool makes one a fool themselves.

"By the way, Parkinson, are you afraid of spiders?" The anger she had been working up during my little speech dissolved back into confusion at my sudden change of topic. "If you don't move to another seat in the next five seconds, you will find all of your clothes transfigured into various species of arachnids."

"You're not serious," she said nervously.

"Oh, she's plenty serious," Blaise interjected. "Bella always follows through on her threats." That was one of the many useful things that my father had taught me to do. If you're all talk, then people will eventually test you; therefore, always follow through on any and all threats you happen to make.

Parkinson got up from her seat seeming more upset than ever. "I'm not afraid of you," she said before stalking off. Right, that was why she was walking away. Good thing she was so incompetent, otherwise I might need to fear some type of retribution. Though for the time being I should probably keep at least one eye on her. I sat down in her newly vacated seat.

Draco was still ignoring me. "Why would my being friends with Granger be such a big deal? You knew that I don't have a problem with muggle-borns."

"Not having a problem with them and associating with them are two different things," he hissed at me. "How do you think it makes me look if my _girlfriend_ is friends with those sorts?" Ah, so that was the problem here. Not necessarily that I wished to be associated with someone who was muggle-born, but that it would reflect badly on Draco Malfoy. Of course, I'm surprised I didn't come to that conclusion myself.

"And besides," Draco continued, "I've told you numerous times the trouble that Potter and his stupid friends have given me and Granger is one of his best friends! Who is more important to you, some Mudblood or me?"

"Mudblood? That term implies that she is deficient in some way, yet from the conversations I've had with her she seems quite intelligent. Is her magical ability inferior to yours in some way?" How was I supposed to know that Hermione was one of the three people that Draco despised? In his letter he only ever talked about Potter, the Mudblood, and the blood traitor (which I found to be an interesting term for him to use when writing to me, as by definition I am at least a borderline blood traitor).

Draco looked furious. I'd take that to mean that Hermione's magic was not inferior to his. "Her magic is only as good as mine because she's always studying. She has to study all the time just to keep up with the rest of us."

"Her studying habits and mine seem to be somewhat similar, Draco," I stated coldly. "Based on what you're saying, what, exactly, would that say about me?"

Draco appeared to stutter for a second. "You're a much better witch than she is!" Whether or not that was true remained to be seen, but I had my doubts about that.

"You cannot tell me who to be friends with anymore than I can tell you the same, as there are plenty of your friends who I am sure I would find to be sorely lacking in several areas. Based on what I know so far, the Slytherins and I are not going to have a very healthy relationship. If you believe you will be bothered by anyone who comments to you about whom I choose to spend my time with, why don't you just hex them?" I grabbed my bag and a roll off the table and strode angrily out of the Great Hall. He could be so shallow sometimes! Actually, a lot of the time. This had always been a problem when we were growing up. If it had made him look good in the eyes of others to be against me, he had been. He had always apologized for it later, but one had to wonder if he truly meant it. I refused to live my life by rules dictated to me by others. It was _my_ life, and I would live it however I wished.


	4. Professor Moody

A/N: If I ever skip posting a chapter feel free to yell at me and I'll get one out as soon as possible.

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Professor Moody

As it turned out, an event that happened later that day lead to Draco and I ignoring our little argument.

"How dare he!" I exclaimed, pacing in front of a couch within the Slytherin common room. Draco was sitting on the end of the couch with Crabbe and then Goyle sitting on his other side.

"A teacher using magic on a student! What is wrong with him? He had absolutely no right to do such a thing. I can't believe our headmaster hired such a loon!" I was, obviously, speaking of what the so-called Professor Moody had done to Draco.

"My father says that Dumbledore is the worst thing that ever happened to this school," Draco informed me. "That man is not right in his head. I doubt he has been for some time now. He's certainly too old to be running a school. My father will certainly hear of this."

"I can't believe we have a mental teacher here at Hogwarts. An adult who would attack a student has no business being here! And I've heard of this, this retired _auror_ before. I've heard he's incredibly paranoid. I wouldn't at all be surprised if the madman attacked the children of former death eaters. He'll probably believe they're all after him for some insane reason! What will the school do _then_?!"

After my little rant I was finally calm enough to sit on the arm of the couch and ask, "How are you, Draco? Are you okay?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair.

"Smashed me against the floor after turning me into a ferret," Draco said resentfully. "Multiple times." I leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"I cannot believe he did this. That mental madman. Is there anything that I can do for you, Draco? Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," he told me before turning his head and saying, "Crabbe, Goyle, leave." He then scooted over on the couch and I moved from the arm of the couch to beside Draco. I knew Draco often milked it when he was harmed. This was encouraged by Narcissa who would fuss over him incessantly, but in this case, I believed Draco deserved a bit of fussing. I mean, he was turned into a ferret and smashed against the floor repeatedly by at _teacher_ in front of a large group of students. I had yet to ascertain why this had happened, but no matter the reason it was completely inappropriate.

"It would help if you would rub my shoulders a bit," he told me, turning slightly to the side. "Moody slammed me down hard."

I moved forward and placed my hands low on his shoulders. "Why did he even do this in the first place?" I asked.

Draco made a 'tch' sound. "Potter insulted my mum, so I threw a spell at him when he turned to leave after insulting her. Moody freaked out over me 'attacking an opponent whose back was turned'." Knowing Draco as well as I did, I wondered what he had said to Potter to make him insult Narcissa, but I knew better than to ask.

The first day of class we had Professor Moody was Wednesday. After being taught by him, my opinion of the man did not improve in the slightest.

"All right," Moody said, making his slow, noisy way up to the front of the classroom, "which of you lot can tell me about any of the unforgivable curses?"

I froze in my seat. I knew one of the unforgivable curses. I knew it well, having had it used upon me in my youth. Draco, who was sitting beside me, noticed and grabbed my hand underneath the desk. Draco knew why I was upset; I was willing to bet he was upset as well. He had been there that day and had interfered.

My grandfather on my father's side was a horrific man. He had been a death eater when the Dark Lord was around. He managed to avoid being sent to Azkaban by moving to the United States, but his belief in you-know-who's principles never changed. When I was eight or nine, my family went to America to visit him (this was not the first time, we did this every once in a while). Draco, whose parents were celebrating their anniversary, came with us. When my parents were out shopping, I let slip that I had a muggle friend. My grandfather was positively livid and used the Cruciatus Curse on me. Draco attempted to stop him. Or course, the efforts of such a young boy amounted to very little and he had the curse performed upon himself as well.

My parents came back to find the two of us huddled in a corner, our arms wrapped around each other. My father dueled with my grandfather, though I'm not sure what came of the fight as my mother removed Draco and myself from the house. Needless to say, my family has not had contact with the man since that day.

Nott raised his hand and stated, "The Imperious curse."

"Ah, yes," said Moody. "A very dangerous one indeed. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble a few years back. It's impossible to prove whether or not someone has been under that curse, and many claimed to have done evil things only because they were under the influence of that very curse."

Professor Moody reached into a jar on his desk, took out a spider, and performed the Imperious Curse upon it. He asked what other curses we were aware of. As the other two curses were named, Moody performed those spells upon two spiders inside the jar on his desk. When he used the Cruciatus Curse, I gripped Draco's hand tighter, looking down at my desk rather than at the spider.

After Professor Moody performed the last curse, the killing curse, I was sure I wasn't the only one in the room whose thoughts turned to the only person to ever survive the _Avada Kedavra _Curse. After all, that event was half of what made Harry Potter the most famous wizard in our world; the other being that after attacking Potter, the Dark Lord vanished.

It was rather obvious that many students in the class were thrilled with the lesson. They were glad to see what could be done with the three unforgivable curses. As for myself, I was completely and utterly appalled. It was all well and good to teach the other three houses about these curses, but teaching those three houses the Dark Arts and teaching Slytherins the Dark Arts are two very different things. I was sure many of my classmates within the room planned to join the Dark Lord, should he ever return. It seemed foolish to me to teach them the Dark Arts early on. One may as well open up a training camp for them. Moody could teach it and call it, 'The Crash Course for Future Death Eaters'.

One would think that schools would desire to give children good examples, and to steer them away from the Dark Arts, not spark their interest in it. It was truly appalling. And though Draco had not liked the reminder of the torture curse, I would not have been surprised if he was just as interested in the other two curses as everyone around us.

This was a very heavy matter, not one that should be taught lightly to students who likely had darker ambitions for their futures.

Defense Against the Dark Arts put me in a foul mood and I fumed all the way to my Arithmancy class. When I got to class, I slammed my bag down by the seat next to Hermione's and fell into my seat.

"Something wrong, Bella?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Have you had a Defense Against the Dark Arts class yet?" I asked her.

"No, I won't have that class until tomorrow."

"Do you have any idea what that mental ex-auror is teaching?" Without pausing for a response I continued, "He's teaching the three unforgivable curses. He just taught three of the most dangerous curses in existence to a class of Slytherin fourth years. Do you think that's a good idea? And is it even legal for them to be showing us these curses? He performed the curses on spiders, but he still performed them, and I _know_ that performing those curses is illegal. What you happen to use them on certainly should not matter since someone who wanted to use those curses might practice on insects and small creatures if they wanted to work their way up, now mightn't they?"

"Well, I suppose that Professor Moody isn't thinking in those terms," Hermione said slowly. "He probably just wants to make sure that all of the students are prepared should they happen to encounter those curses. That is a form of defense, knowing exactly what it is you're up against."

I glared at Hermione. "That may be all well and good for _your_ house, but not all of the houses at this school always have the best intentions in mind, now do they?" I glared down at my desk and muttered, "This is counterproductive to what I came here to accomplish."

"I'm sorry, what was that last bit?" Hermione asked.

I looked back up from my desk. "Nothing important. I was more just talking to myself."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I bet Professor Dumbledore authorized Professor Moody to teach us those curses."

I snorted. That didn't make me feel better at all. "And do you know what else that git of a professor did?" I asked her, however, Professor Vector walked in at that moment and we ceased our conversation.

After class was over (though I was highly upset, the class was still very interesting) Hermione continued our conversation where it had left off. "You should not insult teachers, but what did Professor Moody do?"

"He turned a student into a ferret! As a punishment! And then proceeded to smack him into the floor. That is completely inappropriate, and an abuse of his powers!"

"That _is_ correct. I was there, and Professor Moody was out of line in punishing Malfoy like that, but I truly think that he was only trying to teach him a lesson. He just went about it in the wrong way. A really wrong way.

"You know, Bella, I know I've only known you for less than a week, but the more I talk to you, the more confused I become as to why you are in Slytherin. You're not prejudiced against muggle-borns, and you're upset about being taught the Dark Arts. Are you sure the hat sorted you correctly? You were sorted by the hat, weren't you?"

"'Course I was sorted by the hat, and 'course I belong in Slytherin." I was offended at that accusation. Though I was having issues with my housemates, I liked my house. Well, I liked the general _idea _of my house, at least. "It's not that I'm upset about _me _being taught the Dark Arts, it's that there are many easily corruptible minds in my house, and they don't need any bad influences, no matter how slight, in their lives. Those people could very easily go down a dark and dangerous path.

"And I assure you, once you get to know me more you will understand why I was placed in the Slytherin House. Though my prejudices do not match many of theirs, my temperament surely does. Except that I do it better, because I'm always clever when I'm rude."

Hermione stared at me for a moment. "_Do _you have any prejudices?" she asked.

I looked up at the ceiling, pondering for a bit. "I don't like vampires," I told her. "I met a few once. Nasty creatures they are. I certainly never want to meet any of them again if I can help it."


	5. Of Pranks and House Elves

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Of Pranks and House Elves

I had now been at Hogwarts for one month. Things were going well, if I did say so myself. I loved Hogwarts, though I was still dreading the arrival of the Beauxbatons candidates for the triwizard tournament. Hopefully, I wouldn't know any of them personally. There was a fairly good chance my hope would come to pass, as a student had to be of at least seventeen to participate in the triwizard tournament, which meant that all the candidates would be at least two years ahead of me in school.

Hermione and I were good friends already. We still received a few odd looks when we walked to classes together and sat by each other. There were also whispered comments about how odd it was for someone from Slytherin and someone from Gryffindor to be friends. Especially since that Gryffindor was muggle-born. I had gotten a great deal of flack from my housemates, but a few well-placed bat-bogey and knee-reversal hexes had helped that die down.

Frankly, I found it difficult to believe I was the only Slytherin who wished to have friends outside of the Slytherin house. The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs all had friends and boyfriends or girlfriends from other houses. I believed it likely that those in Slytherin who wanted such things were afraid of the ridicule they would receive from their housemates, like from Draco Malfoy, for example. The cowards. Speaking of Draco, he and I were barely on speaking terms at the moment. Our united anger at Professor Moody lasted until the next time Draco saw me speaking with Hermione. I suspected his biggest issue with mine and Hermione's friendship was that students in Slytherin keep asking him why someone whom he had ties with was spending time with somebody of impure blood. It would be nice if Draco and I could solve our issues before Christmas. Our families would undoubtedly be spending it together, and our parents would be quite put out with us if the two of us were fighting. We would also have to explain the whole story of why we were fighting. This was not something I particularly wished to do. I could inform my parents that I had a muggle-born friend and be just fine, but informing Lucius Malfoy would be another thing. I like the man, but he can be rather frightening at times.

Blaise was no help in this matter at all. While he _was_ one of the few Slytherins who had not harassed me, he found the entire situation amusing and was not getting involved. Watching from the sidelines seemed to be a common pastime for Blaise.

It was a Wednesday afternoon and I was on break, wandering through the halls. Looking out a nearby window I noticed what a beautiful day it was outside and I considered going out and practicing my flying skills. Just because there was no quidditch this year was no reason for me to let my skills get rusty.

I looked away from the window and noticed a small group of students from Ravenclaw walking a few yards in front of me when much to their surprise (and mine) a Dungbomb flew down and exploded onto them. The group shrieked in dismay and I looked up to see if I could spot who had done the deed. Ah, it was the Weasley twins whom I had met on the train. This was my first time seeing them around school. I went up the staircase nearest to me, which placed me a level below the two pranksters. "You know," I called up to them, "if you add a Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Firework to a Dungbomb you're range is greatly increased."

The twins stared down at me in surprise for a moment before looking intrigued. "Have you tried this personally?" one of them asked. I am sad to say I was unable to tell whether it was Fred or George. Hopefully, it got easier to tell them apart with time.

"Let's just say that when I decide to shake things up, I _really_ shake them up." One thing I had to say about Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was that the reaction of the students and staff to pranks was positively _hilarious_. Of course, my doing pranks made me even more of an outcast there, as pranks are something that a lady just does not do. Also, since very few students did pranks at Beauxbatons I was generally blamed for any and all pranks whether or not there was proof I had done it.

Fred and George turned to one another and each considered the other. As one they turned back towards me. "You know, we have just recently been thinking we needed to revamp our style a bit. We've been going to this school going on six years and a few, just a few mind you, of our tricks have gotten a little old. You wouldn't happen to have any other ideas like the one you just gave us, would you?"

I smirked. "Oh, I certainly have a few more to be sure. After all, the more inventive a prank is the more fun it is. Don't you agree?"

"Absolutely," they replied in unison. One of them continued on with, "Of course, when someone comes up with new and untested pranks, these pranks need subjects to be tested upon. We've heard that the newest addition to Slytherin has not been getting along very well with the others. How would you feel if we used a few Slytherins to experiment on?"

My smirk got even bigger. I just loved the way these two thought. "That sounds like a bloody brilliant idea to me. When would the two of you like to meet with me and discuss these plans?"

The two appeared to consult each other without saying a word before simultaneously stating, "Saturday, in the library." What, could these two read each other's minds? Maybe it was some sort of odd connection between twins.

I turned around to go back down the stairs. When I reached the bottom of the stairs Hermione was standing there, glaring at the mess left by Fred and George. The Ravenclaw students had apparently left the scene. She heard me coming down the stairs and turned her glare up at me. "Do you know who did this?" She asked. "Whoever it was is incredibly rude. Do you know who has to clean up this mess? Filch can't get to every mess in the school, and any mess that he doesn't cleanup is left to the house elves! Do you have any idea how much work they do around here?"

I shook my head mutely, believing it would be unwise to attempt to interrupt her, even in order to answer her question. Though, perhaps her question had been rhetorical. "They have to do almost all the work that it takes to keep this place running! They cook our food, they tend to the fires, they clean our common rooms, they do the dishes, and inconsiderate people who make messes just make their job that much harder!" Hermione was panting a bit by the time she finished her tirade. She hadn't taken a good breath since she began speaking.

Apparently, Hermione understood little about house elves. I was sure all of the school's house elves were happy to do all that work. It was true that some house elves were treated in an awful manner, but I doubted the ones at Hogwarts were abused.

Hermione appeared to get a thought and she looked at me suspiciously. "You come from a rich, pureblood family, Bella." Oh dear. I did not like this new turn in the conversation. "Does your family own a house elf?"

"Well, that is to say—technically speaking . . . I mean, yes?" My voice got very small and quiet at the end.

"Oh Bella, how could you?" She cried.

"Well it's not like I had anything to do with the decision! My family had Velda before I was born. We don't treat her badly, I promise! She's more like a muggle's version of a maid, I think, than anything, really."

"House elves are members of the magical community, and you are supporting the subjugation of an entire race! How can you look at yourself in the mirror?"

Now that was going just a bit far. "If we let Velda go, she would have nowhere to go but the streets. Working for people is the way house elves survive, and many people believe that house elves who are let go have some sort of defect.

"That's not what I believe!" I said quickly, heading off an indignant retort from her. "Have you even talked to any of the house elves here?"

Hermione now looked stubborn and a bit haughty. "No, but I am well aware that they have had these ridiculous ideas that they should be servants pumped into their heads for so long that they don't even know good sense when they hear it. They're just a bit confused right now. I'm sure after I talk to them they will start to come around to my way of thinking." Meaning that the house elves of Hogwarts would think what Hermione was saying was a load of crock, as would any self-respecting house elf. "But Dobby agrees with me!" Dobby? Now, where had I heard that name before? "He was the Malfoy's house elf, you know. He was terribly mistreated, but Harry saved him. _He_ is quite happy with his freedom."

So that's where I'd heard the name before! I remembered Draco telling me in a letter how cross Lucius had been when they lost their house elf. I hadn't known their loss of Dobby had been due to Harry Potter. Now that poor house elf _had_ been abused. The Malfoys, whilst very pleasant to anyone they considered their equal, were generally awful to anyone they believed to be beneath them. This happened to encompass a large number of people and various different beings. I was tempted to ask how Dobby was doing, but was fairly certain that letting Hermione know I had been around when Dobby was being mistreated and had done nothing about it was not a very bright idea.

"You have to do something about your family's house elf, Bella. You should at least pay her for her services."

"So that she can do what? House elves don't have a use for money, and it would be liable to offend her." I was reaching a state of disbelief at this point. Hermione was knowledgeable about many other magical creatures, I knew she was. How could it be that she knew so little about house elves? Especially since she was, apparently, attempting to lead a crusade for them.

"I cannot believe you would say something so . . . so . . . so racist!" Racist? And how, exactly, was my statement racist? I was beginning to feel I was going to lose this argument no matter what I said, which was ridiculous, as I was the one who was in the right. It appeared as though on this one subject, Hermione refused to see reason. Oh well, everyone had a vice.

"Calm down, Hermione," I said, making a calming gesture with my hands. "I'll owl my parents about the subject, all right?" They would be open to listening to me on this. Probably. Possibly. Maybe. If I worded my letter just right. Or they would just think I've lost my mind, which wasn't that big of a deal. It would not be the first time, and it probably would not be the last. They would probably demand to know just what, exactly, Hogwarts was teaching me about house elves and their places in society.

Hermione looked triumphant and elated. One would think that she had just one a battle. Perhaps, in her mind, she had. "Thank you, Bella. I am so glad there is at least one person in this school who will listen to reason." I failed to see the reason involved in any of this, but seeing as I had never had many friends, there was a lot I was willing to do for the few friends I did have (unless they were just being stupid gits, as Draco was). Giving my family's house elf a few freedoms would cost my family very little and it appeared to mean a great deal to Hermione.

I smiled at her (admittedly the smile was a bit lopsided as I still thought she was being silly) before saying, "Don't mention it."

"There is also something else you can do," she told me excitedly. "I have started a group that will help to stop all of the awful treatment of house elves. It's called the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare or S.P.E.W." Spew? That was not the greatest acronym I had ever heard. "I have badges and everything! They each cost two sickles and the money will go towards our leaflet campaign. Our short term goals are to get house-elves good wages and better working conditions." She looked at me expectantly.

Just as strong as my hope that she did not expect me to join her little group was my certainty that she did want me to join. "How many members do you have?" I asked her.

"Only three at the moment, Harry, Ron, and I, but I'm sure our numbers will pick up once word gets around." I was sure the numbers would not pick up. If the house elves weren't in favor of this 'movement' why should anyone else be? House elves have powerful magic, if they truly felt abused as a people I was fairly certain that at some point or another a group of them would have formed a rebellion of sorts and demanded better treatment. House elves on the rampage, can you imagine?

"Er, Hermione, you do realize how tenuous my position within in my own house is, don't you? If I weren't such a ruthless person to those who cross me, I would be attacked every time I turned a corner. As things stand I'm an outcast, I only have two friends within my house, and, currently, only one of them is reliably my friend. Joining your group, though it sounds like a great and worthy cause, would cause me even more trouble."

"Sacrifices have to be made in times like this," Hermione informed me. That was easy for her to say. People in her house liked her, and no one was planning to try and corner her in a dark corridor where she would be greatly outnumbered. "A movement like this can't just happen overnight, and it can only happen if people will commit to the cause."

"Can't I just make a contribution to spew?"

"It's S-P-E-W! And while a contribution would be greatly appreciated, you can't just throw some money at a cause and say you did your part. You have to really get involved and help out."

At this point I was moments away from bursting into laughter. "How about for now I just promise to make a contribution of five galleons, and we'll talk about the rest later, eh? At a time when we shouldn't be focusing on our studies. We've just barely started a new year, and we must stay on top of things. Plus, I'm still getting used to the subtle differences between this school and my last."

Hermione did not look completely convinced, but nevertheless she said, "All right. That will work for now. Thank you for your promised contribution. I will hold you to that, you know. And if you need any help with adjusting, though you seem to be doing just fine to me, don't be afraid to come and ask me for help."


	6. Saturday Discussions

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Saturday Discussions

I was excited when I got up early Saturday morning. In the afternoon I would be discussing pranks with Fred and George. I had never had anyone I could discuss pranks with before. This school just kept getting better and better!

I walked down the steps of the girl's dormitory with a bounce in my step, though I lost the bounce when I saw who was sitting on the couch all alone in the common room. Draco had his hands clasped together and was looking at the ground, but he looked up when he heard me coming down the stairs.

Draco smiled a little. "I figured I would need to get up early to catch you." He lost the smile before saying, "We need to talk." Is it just me, or do those words always sound dreadful?

"Okay. Where do you want to talk?"

"Out by the lake. We probably won't be disturbed there."

We were silent as we made the trip out to the lake. It was a bright and sunny day outside. The two of us sat down under a tree near the lake and stared at each other for a moment.

I broke the silence first. "You know that I haven't shared your beliefs about the inferiority of muggle-borns for a long time now. It's true I used to think we were better than them, but that was before I gained a muggle friend. A wizard shouldn't be judged by their blood. They should be judged by their talents and abilities."

"You know I don't agree with you. I despise Mud—I mean muggle-borns and I don't like half-bloods. It's wrong for us to breed outside our own. And I especially despise the muggle-born you have decided to make your new best friend." Draco said the last sentence with bitterness.

"Do you love me, Draco?" I asked. Draco looked surprised at the change in topic. "I'm not necessarily asking if you are in love with me, just if you love me."

Draco blushed and looked away with a stubborn look on his face before saying, "'Course I do, we've been friends since the day we were born."

"What if I weren't a pureblood, or what if one of my parents weren't of pureblood? I'm under the impression you like me for my personality and not just for the blood that runs through my veins. If my blood were different I would still be the same person. Nothing about me would have changed."

"You don't know that! You have no idea if something about you would be different if you were not a pureblood."

I sighed and hung my head. "I'm sorry, Draco. I know this is a difficult subject. I had a hard time changing my way of thinking when I first met my muggle friend.

"I suppose the bottom line is that this is something we disagree on. It's a big and important subject for us to not agree on. The question is whether or not we can work on some sort of compromise and move on."

Draco looked at me solemnly. "I don't know Bella." I felt tears prick my eyes. How ridiculous. Hawthornes didn't cry. Not in public, anyway. "I suppose that until we come to a decision one way or the other we should try and get along as best we can." Draco stood up and held his hand out to me. I grabbed it and pulled myself up.

"You know there is the chance that even if we decide this disagreement is too big for us to work through, our parents may not care. We're in an arranged marriage. Our thoughts and feelings were never taken into account. I don't see why they would take them into account now."

"It's true. My parents would be horrified to hear how you feel about muggles, but since they think so highly of you they would probably just pass it off as some phase of yours.

"I suppose that if the worse happens we'll just be an angry, bitter couple. We'll sleep in separate rooms and I'll have a mistress on the side."

I smiled and pushed Draco away from me. "I'd geld you," I told him. "That is, if my aunt did not get to you first." Draco paled a bit at my last statement. I did not blame him in the least. My mum's sister Clara was . . . Well, she was one of the most interesting witches I had ever met. She was also one of my most favorite people in the world. She was my godmother and she takes that job _very_ seriously. I don't get to see her too often as she and my mother have not gotten along for a long while and she spends most of her time traveling the world. She has learned some amazing magic doing this. She's also found some incredible magical artifacts, some of which she has given to me and some of which she has given to my parents. Something to say about my aunt is that _no one_ gives better gifts than she does.

Draco and I sat by each other at breakfast, which was nice. Blaise raised his eyebrows at the two us as he sat down across from us. "Is the silence war over yet?" He asked us. Neither of us answered.

I desperately hoped Draco would choose to have us work out a compromise. Honestly, if he decided that a compromise wouldn't work, I may side with him. I would hate to give up my new friend. I had never had a friend like Hermione before, but I didn't believe this particular ideal of mine was more important to me than Draco. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made in a relationship, and sometimes people were worth more than ideals. If this happened, I was only worried that it might be a decision that I regretted for a very long time. Beliefs about muggle-borns were not something to be taken lightly.

Given the direction of my thoughts, I felt rather gloomy as I ate my breakfast. Hopefully, I would be more cheered up by the time I met with Fred and George. They didn't seem like the type who would deal well with mopey girls.

Perhaps I should tell Draco what I was thinking. Maybe him knowing that he was more important to me would soften him towards being somewhat okay with my being friends with a muggle-born. Then again, he may claim that it wasn't such a big deal for me to give up my new friend and my ideas about muggle-borns since he was more important to me.

Draco didn't know what Bella's problem was. It was true that Bella had never exactly been prejudiced against muggle-borns the same way he was, but she had always believed that being a pureblood meant something. It was ridiculous for her to even _want_ to be friends with a muggle-born. And not only did she want to be friends with one, but she wanted to be friends with Granger of all people. Granger! Couldn't she have picked someone else? _Anyone_ else? It was pathetic. Bella should not be debasing herself like that.

Bella had been Draco's friend forever. He had always known she would become his wife someday. His mother had always told him to look after Bella. Especially concerning her breathing problem.

It was easy to forget Bella had a problem when she was good at taking her potion. When she wasn't . . . It could be pretty scary. He had always cared for her, and she was the most beautiful girl Draco had ever seen. Anyways, the point of all that was that Draco did not plan to give up Bella. Her apparent new fascination for muggles was a problem, but Draco was sure he could deal with it.

Draco had told Bella he wasn't sure they could continue on the way they had been, but if Bella didn't give, then their parents would make Bella give up this silly little thing of hers. The question was, how much would it hurt Bella? Draco knew it was difficult for her to make girl friends. The only one he was aware of Bella ever having was that muggle girl. It had better not be enough to make her cry. Draco Malfoy did not deal with crying girls. The problem was that Bella crying was a heartbreaking sight, for some strange reason. He was in the habit of avoiding doing things that would make Bella cry, and if she was crying, trying to rectify the situation as quickly as possible.

Draco glared at his toast as he thought about how annoying this situation was. If Bella had been allowed to go to Hogwarts from the beginning, perhaps he could have prevented this from happening. Surely if she had been going to Hogwarts for the past three years and seen everything that had happened she would not want to be friends with that filthy Mudblood. Granger had punched him last year! Perhaps the situation would take care of itself eventually. The Granger girl was always for doing the "right thing" and Bella often had no interest in such things. Also, when angered, Bella could be rather . . . malicious. Being on Bella's bad side was not a very safe place to be. She was the type who was all for retribution.

Draco smirked. Yes, this problem would likely take care of itself. Granger wasn't likely to want to be friends with Bella once she knew more about her.

I got up from the table with the intention of heading towards my dorm room. I was fairly certain I had brought my notebook that had my ideas for various possible pranks. Draco waved as I got up and said, "See you later, Bell."

"Bye Dray." I said before continuing my walk towards the dungeons.

My thoughts turned to my meeting with the twins as I made my journey. Perhaps they would let me have a say in who we "experimented" on. Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Pucey would make prime candidates.

Two students from Slytherin were walking in the opposite direction of me. I heard the word blood traitor hissed as they passed me. The urge to hex them both was strong, but then they might believe I actually cared what they thought. It was a pity I only had two friends in my own house. The same two friends I had had my entire life. Perhaps I would make friends in Slytherin later, after they had gotten used to my being friends with someone in Gryffindor (GASP). I could be friends with those students who wanted friends outside of Slytherin (though they probably didn't want friends in Gryffindor) but were too afraid to actually do it. Not that I needed any more friends of course, in Slytherin or otherwise. I had already been to school for three years without having any friends with me. I'm a strong person and perfectly capable of standing all by myself.

"Serpis Nepin," I said when I got to the wall that opened up into the Slytherin common room.

In the dorm room Tracey Davis was laying on her bed studying her Defense Against the Dark Arts book. "Hello, Tracey," I said as I walked towards my trunk. She briefly looked up from her book and gave me a smile small in greeting. Rather quiet, that one. I much preferred her to my other two roommates.

I had to dig way to the bottom of my trunk in order to find my notebook of prank ideas. Now I was getting excited. I brought the notebook believing I would only write ideas in it. I didn't think I would actually be using it. Back home I have a room I experiment in. One gets to the room through a secret passage-way. Hawthorne manner has a few of those. Of course, I'm not using it for its original purpose, but it's the only place my mother would allow me to practice. She's upset over the fact that I'm interested in such things, but since my father told her that it helps me to further my inventiveness and studies (as I do a lot of research for my pranks), she's let it be. I have tested loads of my ideas in my small little laboratory at home, but I have not used much of it in the real world.

I spent the time waiting for my little meeting with Fred and George going through my notebook, trying to find the most pertinent information. Some of the ideas in my notebook were meant for students like those at Beauxbatons, and some of the ideas would probably be a tad bit too unsavory for the likes of two Gryffindor students.

When the time came close to my meeting I hopped off my bed and said good-bye to Tracey. She had moved on from Defense Against the Dark Arts to Transfiguration, and she gave me a half-hearted wave without bothering to look up from her studying.

The library was sparsely populated. Seeing as it _was _a Saturday, this was unsurprising. Fred and George were already seated at a table near the back. Fred looked up from their discussion as I came in and waved me over. "Hello, Bella! And how might we find you today?"

"Hello, Fred. George. I'm right fine today. How are the two of you?"

"We're ready to get down to business," George said. "Now, we have got a few creations of our very own that we would like to tell you about before you tell us your ideas."

For the next quarter of an hour I was filled in on a few Fred and George originals (I'm sure that they didn't tell me nearly everything, I certainly wouldn't have if I were in their position). The thought uppermost in my mind during those fifteen minutes was: where had these two been all my life? They were positively brilliant. They were bloody fantastic! Pills that you gave you a nosebleed, made you throw-up, and gave you other sorts of ailments with antidotes for all, creams that turned the person into a canary for a few seconds (though apparently they still have a few kinks to work out on that one), and much, much more. Where to begin, where to _begin? _So many pranks, so little time.

"It may be worthwhile to engineer your pills into a form where you can place them into something else. If you could make quills with it, sort of like sugar quills, it would be less suspicious that way. You could also make it be a candy, rather than a pill, as, again, it would be less suspicious."

"Yes," said George, rubbing his chin. "I can see the benefits of that. If one of our clients was not subtle enough in taking the pill, it could look rather suspicious, but if it was in a different form, teachers wouldn't suspect a thing.

"What else have you got?"

"You know animandy, the candy that makes you sound and behave like whatever animal you get? Well, if you combine that with a confundus charm then the person will believe they are whatever animal that they got. Temporarily, of course."

Fred and George both laughed. "Brilliant!" They both said before George continued, "Can you only put the charm on the candy, or do you have to put it on the person after they have eaten it?"

These two were obviously highly experienced prankers. "You can put the charm on the candy itself, but you need to alter your wrist movement a bit. Like this." I took out my wand and showed them how the wrist movement for putting the charm on the candy was a bit jerkier than when putting the charm on a human.

The next three hours were spent discussing more of my ideas and more of their creations. While I'd never created something completely original before, they had never thought to combine things before. Whilst discussing our current ideas we also came up with a few new ones. We made plans to try some things out. It was definitely one of the most fun conversations of my life. With Fred and George, life at Hogwarts would certainly be entertaining.

As we were leaving the library, the three of us noticed we had missed lunch. Right at that moment, my stomach decided to growl. Great. Well, the meeting had been worth missing lunch. "Perhaps the next time we get together to discuss our plans and ideas we should do so over a meal," I suggested.

The twins grinned at me. "No need for that!" They exclaimed. "Wait here a moment, would you?" Well that was odd. I leaned against the stone wall, holding my notebook to my chest. I disliked waiting. It's a terrible waste of time.

In a few minutes time Fred and George were back. With food. "Where did you get that?" I demanded to know.

"From the kitchens, where else?" Fred said, smirking at my surprised expression.

"Well come on then," George said as he walked past me. "Let's find a good place to eat all this."

We walked to a nearby empty staircase and sat down. The two had grabbed sandwiches and fruit. "Where is the kitchen? Are students even supposed to know where it is?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, and no." Well, that was a very forthcoming answer.

I grabbed a sandwich and started eating, thinking. After a few moments I asked, "Do you two know this school better than the rest of the students?"

"Bella, Bella, Bella. 'Course we know the school better than most of the students." Fred answered, shaking his head at me. "How else would we know where the kitchens are, and, more importantly, how else could we set up the perfect pranks? Location is very important, you know."

From there, the conversation turned to the Triwizard tournament. Apparently, Fred and George were excited about the tournament, but offended they couldn't try out, as they would reach the proper qualifying age within a few months. "What do you think of the Triwizard tournament?" Fred asked me.

"I think I would like it a lot more if one of the schools participating was not my old school."

"What have you got against your old school?" Fred asked.

"A lot. At Beauxbatons, the way that one behaves is as important as the magic one learns. My behavior did not tend to go along well with what the school wanted, so I was an outcast. Of course, I was perfectly capable of acting the way they wanted, but I didn't wish to have the life stamped out of me, thank you very much. It would not surprise me at all if those Beauxbatons brats harassed me the whole time that they were here. They didn't like me there, and I'm sure they won't like me here."

"Cheer up, Bella," George began. "I'm sure they'll be much more interested in the tournament than in the fact that you're here." I smiled at that.

"One would certainly hope so."


	7. Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

The moment had finally come. Hogwart's honored guests were arriving in mere moments. Classes had ended a half hour early, and now the entire school was outside in the cold, waiting for the two other schools who were participating in the Tri Wizard Tournament to arrive.

An object soon appeared in the sky and students shouted out guesses as to what it was. Professor Dumbledore informed us it was Beauxbatons arriving. Lovely.

They came in a gigantic blue carriage with giant golden horses pulling it. Of course. I'm sure the students were thrilled to be making a grand entrance, and no matter how Durmstrang arrives, Beauxbatons will claim that their entrance was grander and more elegant. Pompous gits.

About a dozen students stepped out of the giant carriage. I was pleased to note they were not properly dressed for the weather. All of them appeared rather cold in their silk uniforms. None of them even had any cloaks. Honestly. The students at Beauxbatons are supposed to be smart. Perhaps they didn't believe they could look their best if they had cloaks on. It was just like those fools to forgo comfort in place of appearance.

Looking at the Beauxbatons delegation, I felt something akin to dread. Fleur Delacour was among their number. Delacour was the epitome of what Beauxbatons hopes to turn young women into, and also the epitome of much that I despise. Considering her talents as a witch, it wasn't surprising she was chosen to come, but it was annoying that one of the few older students whom I actually knew personally had been chosen to try out for the tournament. She and I had crossed each other a few times at Beauxbatons, and it was not entirely out of the realm of possibility that Delacour had been somewhat of a frequent victim of a few pranks of mine. It's not like I was specifically aiming for her, the girl was just everywhere. What grudge would I have against her? She only commented on how much of a failure I was at being a proper lady _every single time_ she passed me in the halls. If she noticed I was here, there was sure to be trouble.

"Any of these old friends of yours, Bella?" Blaise asked me, mocking me a bit, I suppose, since he was well aware of what my experience at Beauxbatons had been like. I had often owled him my complaints.

"Please. I can only even recognize one of them, and that one happens to be the student who hated me the most at Beauxbatons."

"The headmaster is half-giant?" Draco commented in disbelief.

"Don't say that where she can hear you," I hissed at him.

"Why didn't you ever mention that in any of your letters? It's kind of a big thing to ignore."

I rolled by eyes. "I didn't mention it because the fact that she's half-giant has little bearing on the way she runs the school. You won't find a more cultured woman. Besides, whenever I was writing to you about anything to do with her, I mentioned the word large. I told you that she had a big temper, a large ego, a high opinion of herself, and such things like that."

"And I was supposed to figure out she was a half-giant from that?" I shrugged in reply. I hadn't figured Draco would make anything of my comments, but I had found it amusing.

Soon the Durmstrang students arrived. I thought their arrival was much more impressive. Everyone expects wizards and witch to come from the air, and we had all been looking up to search for Beauxbatons, but Durmstrang came from the water. After their arrival, we were finally able to go into the Great Hall.

The students from Durmstrang sat at the Slytherin table, which was unsurprising, as Durmstrang is reputed to teach the students the Dark Arts. Draco immediately leaned forward to speak with one of the students and I noted with surprise that it was the quidditch player Krum. I hadn't known he was still a student.

Though being a mere three feet away from a world famous quidditch star was amazing, I ignored him (along with the rest of the Durmstrang students) and attempted to think of what exactly I would do if the Beauxbatons delegation did find out I was here. It could be that I was being paranoid, and none of them would notice or care that I was here. That would be the ideal situation, but it might not play out that way.

I was drawn out of my thoughts when one of the Durmstrang students leaned across the table and told me, "You are having incredible eyes."

"Thank you," I told him, giving him a smile. The Bulgarian students looked rougher than those found at Hogwarts. They were probably used to harsher conditions.

"What is your first impression of Hogwarts?" I asked. I received a slow blink in answer. I supposed I shouldn't use bigger words with someone to whom English was a second language. Not everyone was as good as languages as I was. "What do you think of Hogwarts?" I clarified.

"Hogwarts is very nice," he told me. "Your castle is much bigger than ours." As he dished more food onto his plate I noticed for the first time that night that the dinner options were different tonight. In honor of our guests, no doubt. The Bulgarian dishes looked . . . interesting. I was excited to see the French dishes. Of course, I adored the food that Hogwarts served; it just did not have that je ne se quoi that food from France did.

As I dished myself some of the French food, my thoughts turned back to where they had been before the interruption. To be honest, I was partially hoping a fuss would be made about me being here. I really wanted an excuse to use the animandy plus the confundus spell on Delacour. Seeing her behave in an undignified manner would be too great an opportunity to pass over. I supposed I could use it on her whether or not she knew I was here. In fact, it would be better to do it if she did not know, because otherwise she would probably blame me.

When everyone went to bed that night, everyone talked about the tournament and the Goblet of Fire. A few Slytherin students were discussing using an aging potion on themselves so they could get across the line that Dumbledore would put in place to prevent underage wizards from entering the tournament. I doubted this would work. Professor Dumbledore was considered one of the greatest wizards of our time. It was unlikely that such a simple solution would get students across his age line.

Parkinson and Bulstrode spent a long while discussing which Slytherins might make into the tournament. I closed the green curtain around my bed and placed a silencing charm around my bed so I wouldn't have to listen to my two roommates prattle on.

The next morning did not start out great for me. I was walking through the entrance hall when a group of Beauxbatons students entered the school. One of the girls stared at me intently before saying to her companions, "Is zat ze Hawthorne girl who left our school?"

The rest of the group scrutinized me before one of the boys said, "Zere is a way to find out," and then he loudly said, "Bella Hawthorne!" I considered ignoring him. If I didn't respond then they might just drop the matter, but if they later found out who I was, then they would have even more reason to criticize me (rudeness on top of my other sins).

"Oui?" No! These people were going to make me revert to speaking in French.

"C'est toi! Ça va?" The boy asked. Maybe it would help me if I translated everything in my head into English. Okay, he stated that it was me, and asked how I was. This was stupid. I would just answer him in English rather than continuing our conversation in French.

"I'm well enough. How are you?"

"Bon, bon." He was not keeping up his part in the conversational agreement I had made in my head. Maybe he didn't like speaking English.

One of the other girls spoke up, "How could you pozibly be doing well? You 'ave left the grandness of our great school to come to this inferior one."

"To each his own," I stated with a shrug. I continued on to the Great Hall rather than attempting to continue my conversation with them.

"They're approaching the table!" I whispered to Fred and George. The three of us were on the second floor, on the right of the grand staircase, partially hiding behind the railing and the wall. We were about to execute a prank upon the students of Beauxbatons. Delacour was really the only one I wanted to get, but it was much easier to just prank a whole group of them. Seeing as Delacour had been announced as the Beauxbatons champion last night at dinner, I was sure she was being more insufferable than ever.

A lot of work had gone into this prank. We had a table setup in the entrance hall, right outside of the Great Hall. We filled the table with French sweets, courtesy of the twin's contacts in the kitchen. Each of the sweets had the magic of the animandy sweets, done by Fred and George, combined with the confundus charm, done by me. The table was setup to look as though it had been put there to accommodate our guests. What better way to welcome guests than to have sweets of their homeland available? All that was needed was for Delacour to be one of the first to try the sweets. The others, after seeing what happened to their companions, would undoubtedly opt to not try the sweets. We had to time the prank just right. We had everything ready and set it all up when the Beauxbatons delegation began their walk up to the school for lunch. If we had done it any sooner, Hogwarts students may have eaten the treats, ruining the entire purpose of the prank, which, for me, was to annoy Delacour, and for the twins was to show their support of Hogwarts.

Delacour was first at the table. Excellent. The other students milled around the table in interest. Delacour and the girl that she was conversing with both picked up a sweet. "Any second now . . ." I murmured.

They took a bite out of the sweets. Yes! The timing was perfect, as a bunch of Hogwarts students had just entered the entrance hall on their way to the Great Hall. Delacour's forearms flew to her sides with the bottom half of her arms out. She bent her head forward and began making clucking noises and performing a pecking motion with her head.

Fred and George hooted with glee as I fell on the ground laughing. The other girl had her legs bent and her hands on the ground. She was making 'ribbet' noises and attempting to hop.

Much laughter was heard from the surrounding Hogwarts students. Over the laughter I could hear one of the French boys yelling, "What iz ze meaning of zis?" at the same time as one of the girls said, "'Ow dare zey!"

It was a few more minutes of much laughter and yelling before the effect wore off. By that time, the twins and I were making our way casually into the Great Hall. Delacour and her companion were both flushed from embarrassment and looking very upset.

"You!" I heard shouted. I looked around and saw Delacour glaring murderously at me. Unbelievable. The fact that it had been me was completely irrelevant. All she does is see that I am at Hogwarts, and she blames me. Where is the fairness in that?

"Something wrong, Delacour?" I asked innocently. When Fred and George paused a bit ahead of me, I discreetly waved them on. If I got in trouble for this I didn't want to drag them down with me.

"You did this!" She shrieked. "You did this to me!" It was at that moment in time that I remembered how ugly veelas turned when they were angry. I wondered if being only a quarter veela, Fleur would turn ugly. I must say, she did not look so cute with rage on her face. I happen to look very cute when I'm angry. I was told this by both Blaise and Draco; of course, this only infuriated me further at the time, as they were the ones I was angry with.

"Don't be ridiculous. How could I have possibly done this to _you_? Even if I had done this, there would be no guarantee at all that _you _would have eaten the sweet first, now would there? Who in this world would guess that_ you_ would be so grubby as to eat the treats very first?" Delacour flushed at my comment.

"What is going on here?" A slow voice asked. Professor Snape had come upon our little tête-à-tête, which was unsurprising given the crowd that was gathered around us.

"Zis _girl_ used a charm on me!" Delacour declared scathingly. "Is zis 'ow you treat your honored guests?!"

"All I did, Professor, was walk down the grand staircase on my way to lunch, and this girl starts throwing wild accusations at me!" Given my high opinion of Professor Snape, I had no desire to lie to him, and so far, I had not. Hopefully, I could keep it that way.

"Do you have any reason to believe that Miss Hawthorne did this to you, Miss Delacour?" Snape asked with raised eyebrows.

"She 'ates me." Fleur declared. "She 'as always been jealous of me."

"Oh please!" I burst out. "What is there to be jealous of about _you_? Yes, it has always been my life's dream to become a huge bi-"

"Erm, Professor?" The boy who had spoken to me yesterday morning stepped forward. "Hawthorne and Fleur 'ad some troubles togezer at Beauxbatons, and Fleur 'as always carried a grudge against Hawthorne. Zere is no proof zat Hawthorne had anyzing to do wiz zis." Well, well, well. That was unexpected. Apparently I had a bit of an unlikely ally among the students from Beauxbatons.

Delacour glared fiercely at the boy. Hopefully, he wouldn't pay too dearly for helping me.

"Well, then," Professor Snape began, "I think that clears the matter up. I assure you, Miss Delacour that we will attempt to discover who the real culprit is."

"You 'ad better!" She said before turning on her heel and stalking away. Of course, she took the time to give me one last glare before leaving.

"Sorry about that, Professor Snape. And thanks."

"Of course, Miss Hawthorne. I don't stand by when members of my house are attacked. Verbally or otherwise." With that, Snape strode off toward the Great Hall.

I turned towards the boy who had spoken up for me. "Thanks. I owe you."

He blushed and stared at the ground at my feet before saying. "You are welcome, but it waz partly my fault in ze first place. I was ze one 'o told 'er zat you are 'ere." His blushed deepened and he said, "You know zat she does not like you and zat _she_ is ze one who is jealous. You are not part veela, yet you are just as beautiful as she is."

It appeared I had been mistaken. Not everyone at Beauxbatons had disliked me. Then again, he may only like me because of my looks. I smiled at him. "That's very kind of you to say. By the way, what's your name?" I felt a little bad, asking him what his name was, as he obviously knew who I was, but then again, I was the one who had infamously "dared" to leave Beauxbatons of my own free will.

"My name is Jean Monet."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Jean."

"It is nice to be formally introduced to you." He looked a bit awkward for a moment. "Shall we go to ze great 'all?"

"Of course." I said. He put his hand lightly on my back to guide me. I found the whole thing a bit uncomfortable, but all the boys at Beauxbatons were taught how to always be a gentleman. Truly, it _is_ nice in some ways. There were a few students at Hogwarts who would benefit from a few lessons that Beauxbatons teaches (just a few mind you; I'm not praising Beauxbatons in any way).

"What was all that commotion outside the Great Hall about?" Draco asked as I sat down for lunch.

"Oh, nothing much. A little prank was pulled on a few of the students from Beauxbatons and they went boggers. Well, one of them did anyway."

"A few students were pranked and they caused all of that commotion?" Draco asked, surprised.

"Actually, it was more of a commotion because of the fact that the prank had a rather large audience. Some people just can't take a joke."

"What was the prank?" Blaise asked.

"Nothing much. Just some enchanted candy that made the eaters act like a certain animal. It only lasted for a few minutes."

"Do they know idea who did it?"

"No, but when the Delacour girl saw me, she blamed me for the entire thing without having any reason at all for doing so," I said tartly.

"You didn't get into trouble, did you?" Draco asked. I shook my head. I didn't see any reason for me to tell them I actually had been involved in the prank.


	8. Jealousy

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Jealousy

"Boys are stupid!" Hermione yelled as she paced back and forth.

"Of course they are, Hermione. Are you just now figuring this out?" The two of us were in the library (as we often were). We had been studying Transfiguration when the stress of what was going on her life just became too much from her. Apparently, her friends Ron and Harry were not on speaking terms. Ron did not believe Harry when Harry said he didn't entered his name in the Goblet of Fire (for the record, I believed Harry, but only because Hermione believed him and I trust her judgment), and Ron was very jealous of all the attention Harry was getting. That would be an annoying situation. For me, it would be like if Blaise and Draco were fighting.

"It seems to me, though I could be wrong as I don't know the bloke, but it seems to me as though Potter is not enjoying all this attention."

"He's not!" Hermione exclaimed. "He never has, and Ron knows that! But apparently, his envy of Harry is just too much this time! And if Harry would just talk to Ron they could probably work it all out, but no, Harry says he didn't start this fight and that _Ron _must make the first move. " Hermione let out a frustrated scream. "Boys are _so_ stupid!"

"I believe that fact was already established. Hermione, my dear, dear, Hermione, it is becoming a well-known fact that girls are more mature than boys and that they are smarter as well. Well, _most_ girls are. Girls like us, anyway." My comments did not appear to be helping abate her anger and frustration.

"I cannot believe that Ron is refusing to talk to Harry when Harry will soon be facing a- Be facing who knows what!" Before, I had been lounging in my seat, humoring Hermione by listening to her rant, but at that, I sat up. She had faltered there. I was sure of it, but how could Hermione possibly know what Potter would be facing in the first task? Unless Potter had told her, but, again, how could he possibly have known? Cheating? This early in the game? I highly doubted Hermione would ever condone cheating of any sort. This was very curious indeed. I wanted very badly to know, but wasn't sure I should ask. Hermione might be upset that I asked and just deny everything.

"You're right. Given the circumstances, you would think that Weasley, Potter's best friend, would be supporting him at this time, not be holding a grudge over some petty jealousy. After all, Harry will undoubtedly be facing something incredibly dangerous. It could even be life-threatening, I mean, people have died in this tournament." Hermione looked positively terrified when I said this. "Not that he will or anything, of course!" I said in a rush. "From what you've told me, Potter is an incredible wizard. I'm sure he can handle it." Truthfully, I wasn't sure at all. There was an age restriction for a reason, but I was hardly going to tell Hermione that.

Hermione looked towards the front of the library and her scared look changed to annoyed. "Look, he's here again. Didn't he find what he was looking for the last time he was here?"

I looked to the front of the library. Viktor Krum had just entered the library, and trailing a little behind him were his fangirls. This was the second time Krum had come to the library. I hadn't been around the first time, but Hermione had told me all about it. She had nothing against Krum, but she was extremely irritated by his entourage. I didn't blame her in the least. They were giggling nonstop. Didn't they have any pride? Didn't they have any dignity? Didn't they ever stop to _breathe?_

Hermione finally took her seat. She glared at her Transfiguration book for a bit before asking me hopefully, "You wouldn't have any ideas on what I should do with Ron and Harry, would you?"

"No, sorry. Solving fights is not my specialty, by far. I tend to stay as far away from conflicts as I can, if I'm not directly involved. Anyways, back to famous boy over there, shouldn't you just be grateful that someone like him, who undoubtedly makes tons of money with quidditch, is still attempting to be scholarly?"

Hermione heaved a sigh. "It's not that it bothers me that he's studying, but couldn't he study somewhere else? Surely his ship must have _somewhere_ that he can study. Why does he have to do it here? We have O.W.L.s next year, and we really need to study hard."

"Absolutely," I agreed. Of course, I was fairly certain that Hermione and I were in the minority of our year with that belief. The opinion of most of our peers was that O.W.L.s were more than a year away, so why fret? Those poor, poor, short-sighted individuals. I almost asked Hermione if Weasley and Potter felt the same way, but thought better of it. Bringing up those two at this point in time would probably just upset Hermione. Hopefully, the two friends would soon make-up.

The next morning at breakfast, I was sorely reminded of my promise to Hermione about speaking with my parents over the treatment of our house elf. My mother had replied to my letter.

_My dearest daughter,_

_Have you gone mad? What's this rubbish about giving Velda some type of payment for her services? And days off? You do realize that, not only would this be offensive to her, but it would be liable to make her panic, do you not? The poor dear would think we were displeased with her services._

_What exactly are teaching you at this school? Your father assures me that Hogwarts does not believe in some radical house elf liberation theology. However, I am concerned that things have changed. If you are hearing this from one of your teachers, you had better tell us so we may complain to the headmaster. If you are hearing this from a classmate, how could you possibly be so foolish as to listen to them?_

_I suppose this may be your idea of a joke. If it is, then it is not in very good taste. Honestly. Giving a house elf freedoms? How ridiculous. _

_I hope you are doing well, my dear. You spoke very little of how your life at Hogwarts is going. Please do send your father and me a detailed letter of how things are. I still feel just dreadful that you detested your old school. Really, dear, why did you not tell us? There is no need for you to spare our feelings on such things. We can handle it, I promise you. _

_Since you apparently seem to be rather lapse when it comes to sending proper letters, let me give you a few ideas of what to write about. How are you enjoying your classes? What do you think of your professors? How is Severus doing? How are Draco and Blaise? You are treating Draco appropriately, correct? How many new friends have you made? What do your classmates seem to think of you? Are you excited about the Triwizard tournament? _

_All my love,  
__Eleanor Hawthorne__, __Your Loving Mother_

At the end of the letter I was torn between the desire to laugh hysterically, and to bang my head against the table repeatedly. I wasn't sure what I would tell Hermione if she asked what my parents had responded, and I was rather certain that she would ask. Perhaps the use of the words the "the poor dear," would prove to Hermione that my family's house elf was not abused. Velda was part of the family. She just happened to be a part that was rarely seen and did all of the housework. That didn't mean we didn't care about her.

As it turned out, the letter was the highlight of my day. Blaise was standing outside the History of Magic classroom, looking a bit nervous. "Something wrong?" I asked him with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Er, Draco has decided to take a new approach in attempting to convince to you not be friends with any muggle-borns, or really anyone else that he doesn't like. Like the Weasley twins." I looked at him in surprise. "Yes, we've noticed you hanging around them. We've also noticed you helping to prank Slytherins. Not that I'm blaming you, 'course. Many of the Slytherins have treated you rotten."

I pushed past Blaise into Professor Binn's classroom to see what he meant. When I saw for myself, my vision went red. Draco had his arm around Parkinson. _Parkinson._ So, he thought he could change my mind by making me jealous, could he? Though I was enraged, I was also hurt. This was low for him to sink. Of course, two could play at this game. And one of us, I was willing to bet, was distinctly better at this game than the other. Whenever I'd needed help with anything back at Beauxbatons, I'd had to . . . persuade others to help me (and by others, I mean boys, I wasn't going to try and ask any girls for help). My own particular brand of persuasion, and I only have one type of persuasion when it comes to the opposite sex (unless I'm threatening them, but that is a different matter entirely). If this was the way Draco wanted to play it, then I would beat him into the ground.

To date, I had wanted little to do with the Slytherin boys (and girls, but I wasn't focusing on them at the moment), mostly because of their opinion of my Gryffindor friend, but I was sure they would like me if they only saw my more charming side. I walked over to where Theodore Nott was sitting. He had his bag in the seat next to him. Afraid of some errant Hufflepuff (who shared history class with us) would dare sit next to him, I supposed.

I lowered my eyelids and made my voice breathy (my voice happens to be naturally sexy, so anything I add is just icing on the cake), "Would you mind if I sat here Nott?"

Nott looked up in surprise, and then stared at me, slack-jawed for a moment. "Of-of course, Bella! Let me just move my bag. Sorry 'bout that."

"Oh, it's not a problem at all."

As two boys from Hufflepuff walked in, I accidently (purposefully) dropped my quill. "Oh, Finch-Fletchley, Macmillan, would one of you please get my quill for me? I'm afraid I was a bit clumsy." I smiled a smile that was a mix between 'oh how silly of me' and a 'damsel in distress' smile. Both boys looked dazzled before they reached for my quill. They had a bit of a scuffle while deciding who would get my quill. They'd better not harm my quill. It was very high grade.

In the end, Finch-Fletchley won. He looked a bit triumphant as he handed me my quill. "Thank you very much," I said, giving him a charming smile.

"You're welcome," he replied, blushing. Boys are so fun. It's just _so_ easy to manipulate them. Occasionally, it was a _too _easy. I like a bit of a challenge. For today though, easy was good.

There was a shuffling noise behind me and I turned to see what it was. Goyle had moved into the seat behind Nott and me. My guess was that Draco had sent him over to spy on us. It was difficult not to look in Draco's direction, but I resisted the temptation. That would ruin the game.

"Mornging Goyle," I said. He looked at me stupidly with surprise on his face and I realized it was the first time I'd ever talked to him. That was strange, considering the amount of time we had spent together. "All right, there?" I asked, tilting my head to the side a bit.

"Uh, y—yeah. All right, Hawthorne?"

"Oh, absolutely. Thank you for asking."

Nott, who seemed rather put out that my attention had wandered from him, asked, "So, Bella, who do you think will win the Triwizard Tournament?" However, Professor Binns chose that moment to float into the classroom and begin his lecture, as such, I was unable to answer Nott's question.

It was truly amazing how a professor could make a subject as fascinating as history boring. As Professor Binns voice droned on, I let my mind wander a bit. Next period we had Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws. Then the fun would begin all over again.

When the bell rang, I was the first person out of my seat; I wanted to get to Transfiguration quickly to sit in a prime spot to greet my classmates. "Do you want me to carry your bag?" Nott asked. I quickly weighed the value of having some guy carry my bag to getting into Transfiguration first before handing Nott my bag. The value of that would be high, and I could still walk fast. Nott would just have to keep up.

"Thank you for offering, Nott. How chivalrous of you."

Nott swelled a bit under my praise. "Call me Theodore," he said. "Or just Theo is fine." At that moment I realized Nott had called me by my first name in class. How presumptuous of him, although, now was hardly the time to be upset over that.

"Certainly, Theodore."

We made good time to McGonagall's classroom, and by the time Draco entered the room with Parkinson by his side, I was sitting on top of a desk surrounded by boys. Though Parkinson had entered with Draco, I noticed his arm was not around her. Good. Also, Draco looked upset, which was even better. Parkinson attempted to sit next to Draco, but he pulled Crabbe down beside him. Smart boy.

When most of the class had entered the classroom, Professor McGonagall stood up from her desk and said, "While I am thrilled you are making new friends, Miss Hawthorne, I would appreciate it if you would take your seat."

I sat by some Ravenclaw kid who seemed thrilled to be sitting by me, yet a bit leery of sitting next to someone in Slytherin. I had been at school for a few months now, but the prejudices between the houses still seemed silly to me. Theodore wasn't happy, as he had been the one who had brought my bag to class. Seeing as he had called me a blood traitor two months ago, I didn't particularly care whether or not he was happy.

At the end of class, Draco hurried over to me and grabbed my arm. He dragged me down a deserted corridor. Obviously, we were not going straight to lunch today. "Stop," he told me. "Just stop and I'll stop." Apparently, he was quite upset over what happened. How very exciting.

"It was your fault," I stated. "And you should have known you chose something that wouldn't work out well for you. _You _can only get girls in Slytherin, many of whom won't go near you because of their fear of me._ I_ can get guys from every house. Of course, the Slytherins would be a little leery of a 'blood traitor' like me, but given my looks, my so-called quirks are easy to over-look. You might want to weigh your decisions more carefully in the future, Draco."

Draco flushed and began to stomp away. He was so temperamental, and absolutely detested being dressed down by anyone. There was only one way I knew of to fix this. Why was I the one who was always making the sacrifices in this relationship? "You really hurt me, you know," I called. "You know good and well that all those boys mean nothing to me, but you have been going here for three years without me and I have little idea of what Parkinson is to you."

Draco stopped walking away and turned around. "She's nothing to me," he said. "Nothing compared to you, anyway. What girl could possibly compare to you?"

I smiled my first true smile that day as I walked up to him and grabbed his hand. I desperately wanted to tell him of my mother's letter. It was the kind of amusing thing that you would share with your best friend/almost boyfriend, but because of the house elf portion, it was something that would spark another fight.

As it turned out, quite a bit of good came from Draco's stupid little game. Other students (including Slytherins) became much friendlier with me. Of course, they were all guys, but you take what you can get, right? I now had quite a few more friends at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mother will be so pleased.


	9. Yule Ball

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family. Long chapter this time!

Yule Ball

The entire school was in a tizzy over the upcoming ball. I myself was rather excited, though a bit disappointed that I wouldn't be going home to visit my parents over Christmas break. This would be my first year at school that I didn't. My parents were disappointed they wouldn't see me, but thrilled over me going to a ball with Draco (at least, mother was). At the beginning of the year, since the Hogwarts list of equipment included dress robes, mother had bought me incredible green dress robes that went perfectly with my eyes. I was quite sure I would be the most beautiful girl at the ball.

I had already been asked out by seven boys. Three were from Slytherin, three from Ravenclaw, and one from Hufflepuff (no offers from any Gryffindors, I supposed that aside from three certain Gryffindors, the rest are rather leery of me; no complaints here, the majority of them are much too _good_ for my tastes). I informed all of them that, sadly, I already had a date to the ball. Although, in actuality, Draco hadn't asked me yet. The amusing/tragic thing was that I was certain Draco had no intention of asking me. So far as he is concerned, it was a done deal. The two of us are engaged, so what's the point of asking? It's self-evident. And besides, who else would we go with? Sometimes that boy's arrogance was a nuisance. It never hurts to ask a girl, does it? At least, not when you already know the answer will be yes.

I pondered all this as I wandered aimlessly through the corridors. That is, until Hermione came up to me. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked both embarrassed and pleased.

"All right there, Hermione?" I asked her.

"Krum just asked me to the ball," she gushed. I was surprised she said yes (at least, from her behavior I was guessing she said yes) when he had caused both her and me so much anguish in the library.

My eyes widened. "Krum?"

She nodded her head. "Apparently, he's been coming to the library every day, trying to get up the nerve to talk to me." Well, that explained why her ire had faded.

"That is so cute!" I gushed. I was thrilled for Hermione. She was an amazing girl and it was great that a (hopefully) great guy had noticed. I also thought it was great that the guy happened to be quite famous. Surely, many of the girls who believed themselves to be better than Hermione in every way but scholastically would have to eat their words now. Aw, sweet justice. "Wouldn't it be amusing if all of those silly chits that followed him into the library knew the real reason he was there?

"Oh, I'm sure you two will look great at the dance! But, are you prepared to dance in front of the entire school? That's what you'll have to do with your date being one of the Triwizard champions, you know."

"Thanks for reminding me," Hermione said glumly. "Though I can handle it just fine, thanks. I'm not going to refuse to go to the dance with a boy just because I'll have to dance in front of others. Do you have a date for the dance yet?"

"Er, yes," I said, turning away from her. I was well aware of her opinion of Draco, and did not relish the idea of telling her that he was my date.

"So, who are you going with?!" She asked. Apparently, she was prepared to be just as excited for me as I had been for her. Somehow, I didn't think that she would still feel that way in another moment.

"Oh, just a boy in Slytherin," I said, dancing around the subject.

"Oh, come one, Bella. Just tell me who it is."

"Drco Mfy," I muttered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Who did you say?" She asked, leaning in closer to me.

"I'm going with Draco Malfoy."

Hermione merely stared at me for a moment. "Malfoy?! You're going with Malfoy?! Why?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I realize Draco is awful to you, but you must realize that he doesn't treat me the same way, and besides, it's just a dance." For now, anyway.

"I can't believe you, Bella. Malfoy is one of the most prejudiced Slytherins there are."

"I know, I know. He's a total and complete git when it comes to that, but I've known Draco my entire life. Our parents are the best of friends, and do you have _any_ idea of the hell I would go through from all four of those adults if I didn't go to the dance with Draco? I really don't think you do."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione stated. "Your parents telling you who to go to a dance with? That's high-handed of them." She didn't know the half of it. "Well, I certainly hope he treats you properly at the ball."

"Don't worry," I said, smiling. "I'll kick his arse if he doesn't." Hermione returned my smile.

The day of the dance approached quickly. It was fun getting ready in my dorm room with Tracey Davis (who was going to the dance with Theodore Nott). Parkinson and Bulstrode had opted to get ready somewhere else. I believed they were under the impression I would sabotage them if they got ready in here. If only the gits realized they looked bad enough without me doing anything to them.

My eye shadow was silver, green (shocking, I know), and glittery. My hair was pulled back with silver barrettes so that half was up and the other half cascaded down my back like a waterfall (poetic, no?). With my AMAZING dress robes, my hair, and my make-up, I swear I looked like some ethereal being that men could not help but bow down to.

"Were you aware that my date would rather be going to the ball with you than with me?" Davis asked. "You probably are."

Well, that was awkward. Was I supposed to respond in some way? How do you even respond to a comment like that? "I'm sorry?" I said cautiously.

"It's fine. I don't really like him, anyway. My parents would be upset if I didn't go to the ball. They want to make sure I associate with the outside world every now and again." I could see why her parents would worry about that. Her nose was always in a book. Sure, she took the time to study, but it was obvious she would much rather read some fiction book. Currently, she was reading _The Unsolicited Romance of the Werewolf and the Vampire. _It sounded odd to me. Personally, I'd rather live a romance than read it. And who, in their right minds, would ever date a werewolf or a vampire? As I've mentioned previously, I have met vampires. You date them at a great personal risk to yourself.

Davis turned away from the mirror she was using to apply her make-up. "You look great," I told her, and she did. She was pretty in her purple dress robes and amateur make-up.

She looked me up and down. "I don't look like much compared to you." Have I mentioned how blunt she is? She was certainly a breath of fresh air compared to our other roommates, who attempted to be conniving, but were rather rubbish at it.

I grabbed the flask that contained the potion Professor Snape made to help me deal with my breathing issue and took a big gulp. It was always wise for me to take some of my potion before I was going to experience physical exertion. It tended to exacerbate my problem. "Well. Shall we go?"

She shrugged. "I suppose so. It's seven forty-five." She walked towards the door of our room and I followed her.

As the two of us descended the stairs, Draco stared at me. As did Theodore and Blaise, who's date was some girl named Daphne Greengrass. Oh, that was _real_ classy of them. Davis, who did not really care, took little notice. Blaise's date alternated between glaring at him and glaring at me. Like it's _my_ fault I'm so bloody gorgeous? Like I said, I was not only beautiful tonight, but I was ethereally beautiful.

Draco took my hand as I reached the end of the stairs and kissed it before saying, "You look beautiful, Bella."

"Thank you, Draco. You look rather dashing yourself." Draco, in his dress robes, looked positively mouth-watering. Sometimes, when he was being a git, it was difficult to remember how handsome he was. The two of us looked amazing together; both with pale skin, one with light hair, the other with dark. Can you picture the magnificence?

"You do look lovely, Bella," Blaise told me, hooking his arm through his date's. Her glare became a might fiercer.

I struggled to contain my smile. The thought of anyone being jealous over me with Blaise was amusing. That would _never _happen. We were best friends; he was just occasionally blinded by my beauty. Can you really blame the guy? "Thanks, Blaise. You look great too." Perhaps the problem was that Blaise hadn't stared at his date and told her that she looked lovely. It wouldn't be surprising if he hadn't, since she was not anything special to look at.

Draco held out his arm and I took it. "You know we're going to have to have someone take a picture of us for our parents," Draco said. "Our mothers will be furious if we don't."

"True," I replied. "Hopefully, we'll remember to do that after the dance. It _does_ last for four hours."

The six of us (I'm not quite sure how Theodore and Davis ended up with us) waited outside the Great Hall as the champions went in first. I was amazed when I saw Hermione. She looked _great_. I wondered what she had done to make the frizz leave her hair. She looked over and saw me and I gave her a thumps up with an excited smile on my face. She gave me a small wave and a nervous, yet eager smile in return.

The six of us sat at the same table and had dinner.

After dinner, Professor Dumbledore pushed the tables to the sides of the room and a waltz began to play while the champions with their dates moved to the center of the room for the first dance. It would have been nice if I could have turned to my date and said, "Doesn't Hermione look great out there?" It was not a fun thing having some of your friends hate each other.

After a few minutes, more people started to dance. Draco and I moved to the dance floor and began dancing. Dancing with Draco was always a lot of fun (I had done it previously at various parties hosted by our parents, of course, we had been quite a bit younger then). I had one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand; his other hand was on my waist and the two of us waltzed across the dance floor.

After the waltz, the Weird Sisters (with much applause) entered the room and climbed onto a make-shift stage. After they started to play, the dancing became much wilder and a lot more people began dancing.

I danced once with both Blaise and Theodore. I also ended up dancing with Jean Monet from Beaubatons, who had seemed nervous to ask me, and very pleased when I said yes. When my little group decided to take a break from dancing, I noticed Hermione and Krum had taken a break as well. While Draco went to get us drinks, I went over to speak with Hermione.

On my way over I came across Fred and his date. They were dancing in such a manner that people were giving them a wide berth. "I love your style!" I yelled to Fred over the loud music.

He looked up at me. "I know; it's great isn't it? You should try it! Oh, but wait, your date is a prissy git who doesn't know how to let loose. Sorry, never mind."

I shook my head at him and continued on my way, though I stopped shortly when I realized Hermione was having an argument with the Weasley twin's younger brother. I was close enough that I could hear what was being said. Fraternizing with the enemy? Krum only dating Hermione to get information on Potter? What a jerk! And Hermione criticized me for being friends with Draco?

One thing that I _do not _take lying down is the abuse of my friends. After Hermione had finished her 'conversation' I marched over to the table in which her friends were sitting. "Oy, Weasley!" His head snapped around to look at me. His jaw dropped and he looked a bit incoherent. See? Some people may be able to resist my beauty when I dress normally, but not when I'm all dolled up.

He shook himself out of it and said, "Yeah, what?" in a defensive tone.

"I don't know where you get off trying to make your _best friend_ feel bad when she's having a great time, but you had best lay off. Maybe you're jealous that Hermione is with another or guy, or perhaps you wish it was you who Krum asked to the ball, either way you had better leave her be, or you'll find yourself at the wrong end of my wand."

"Don't threaten him," Potter said, straightening up in his chair.

"And you," I began, turning on him, "how dare you not defend her! Need I remind you that Hermione stuck by you when _this one_ did not? That's a right fine way to pay her back for her loyalty!" I turned on my heel and began to stomp away.

"Hey, wait!" Harry said, jogging over to where I was.

"What?" I hissed, turning around to face him.

"You're in Slytherin," he started. What a brilliant deduction! No wonder he was a triwizard champion. "But, you're friends with Hermione, who's from a muggle family. You'd better not be planning something, or it's you who'll find yourself at the wrong end of_ my_ wand."

Unbelievable. I'd just gone over to his table to yell at him over his treatment of Hermione, and now he was accusing me of planning something against her? "I just defended her, and now you accuse me of having ulterior motives for being her friend?!"

"Well, that sure would be a good way to make us believe you were her friend, wouldn't it?" What had led to Potter being so paranoid? I knew that Gryffindors hated Slytherins (and vice versa), but what was with this? "Look, I'm not saying you _are_ planning something, I'm just saying that if you do anything to hurt her, I will make you pay."

"Whatever," I said rolling my eyes and walking back to my table. I hadn't even gotten to speak with Hermione. How disappointing.

Draco arrived at the table with drinks about the same time as me. "Where were you?" He asked.

"Nowhere, I was just yelling at Potter for his treatment of a mutual friend.

"It's hot in here, let's go outside." All that dancing coupled with anger really worked up a sweat. Draco looked at me oddly, but obligingly led the way outside.

"It's very picturesque out here, isn't it?" I asked. The grounds were covered in snow and there were fairy lights (by that I mean actual fairies) everywhere.

"Yeah, it looks nice, I suppose." That Draco. Such a romantic. "I'm having a great time with you, Bella."

I smiled at him. "Me too."

"We work really well together, and we're a lot alike." Uh-oh. Was this going to turn into a relationship conversation? "Bella, I don't want to do this stupid 'we only talk to each other as friends thing', and I don't want us to have a relationship where we're only together because we're supposed to get married. I want to truly date you." I smiled. That was actually a bit romantic.

"So do I," I told him.

Draco leaned forward and I help my breath. He tilted his head a little, and I closed my eyes. And then we kissed. It wasn't long, but it was very sweet, and it was incredible. Draco pulled back and we each stared at the other's eyes (I just couldn't say that 'we stared into each other's eyes', it's just too pathetic).

Draco grabbed my hand and laced his fingers with mine and we walked the grounds. We didn't say a lot, but it was one of those moments you wished could last a lifetime, you know?

As we walked back to the school I guessed Draco had decided to ignore the whole me being friends with Hermione thing for the time being. I was under the impression that it was because of that that we hadn't already been dating, but if he wanted to ignore it, I would humor him. Besides, I was too happy to much care at the moment.

I couldn't help thinking that normally this was the type of thing you would run and tell your girlfriend about, but Hermione would hardly want to hear it. It was incredibly unfair that I lived in a world where I could only share half my life with every single friend I had. It would be nice if I could find a friend I could share everything with. I supposed I could owl my muggle friend about it. I had told her about Draco before and she would be excited for me. I know I probably shouldn't send an owl to a muggle, but sending a postcard was a big hassle, and besides she just thought that my sending letters by owl was one of my eccentricities. She enjoyed exchanging letters by owl. She was someone who I could have shared everything in my life with, if not for the small fact that she's a muggle. Her personality was a lot like mine.

The dance was winding down by the time we got back. The room was sparsely, as many students had gone to bed.

Either Blaise and his date were taking another break, or they had sat at the table the entire time Draco and I were gone. "How was your walk outside?" Blaise asked, his eyebrows raised slightly. I wonder what, exactly, he thought had gone on.

"Great," Draco said with a bit of a smirk. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. What was that statement supposed to mean? That something had happened, or just that it had gone well? Had Draco been planning to have that little talk with me, and told Blaise about it?

"How was it in here?" I asked.

Blaise shrugged. "About the same. Things are coming to a close in here. Looks like we should head back to the common room soon."

"Come on, Draco," I said, grabbing his arm. "Let's get one more dance in."

As we were walking away I heard Greengrass say, "Why don't we get one more dance in, Blaise?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm happy right here." I smirked at his response. I would say 'his poor date', but I didn't really care. I doubted Blaise cared much for her. He probably asked her more out of convenience than anything else. I wasn't sure what I would do when Blaise found a girl that he liked more than me. It had better be someone I approved of and could be friends with.

On the dance floor Draco and I danced a little wild and crazy like the rest of the remaining students were doing. I smiled and laughed as Draco twirled me. I'd missed visiting my parents, but this night was worth missing the trip home.

As the song came to a close I kissed Draco on the cheek. "Thanks, Dray," I said.

"For what?" He asked curiously.

"Just for giving me a great night," I said with a shrug.

"You're welcome," he responded. "Thank you as too."

It was a bit of struggle not to have a sappy smile on my face as we walked over to pick up Blaise before leaving. I couldn't remember ever being this happy before. I hoped Draco was as happy as I was. He seemed to be.

"Ready to leave, Blaise?" I asked.

"Yes. Let's go." Blaise stood up and began walking towards the door. Greengrass looked affronted. I guess she was expecting some sort of acknowledgement from Blaise when they left. That, more than anything, let me know Blaise didn't care much for her. Both Draco and Blaise are capable of being perfect gentlemen, but only to girls they care about (like me, unless they happen to be upset with me).

Draco and I turned and followed Blaise to the doors of the Great Hall. Greengrass hurried to catch up with Blaise, an annoyed look on her face. That was what she got for going to the dance with a guy only for his looks, though Blaise was a great guy if he happened to like you. It seemed to me that it was the same way with most of the Slytherin students, myself included.

When we got to the Slytherin common room Blaise said, "Wait a second," and ran up to the boy's dorm room. He came back down holding up a camera.

I was relieved. "Good thinking, Blaise." My parents and Draco's would not have been pleased if we'd forgotten to get a picture. There probably would have been snide comments from our mothers for months. Draco put his arm around my shoulders and we both smiled. I wondered if our pictures would kiss. That would be cute.

After Blaise took a picture I told him, "Now give the camera to someone else and come over here." He started shaking his head. "No, you know my parents love you. If I don't have a picture of you with us you know that my mum will be put out with me."

Blaise passed the camera off to Greengrass without looking at her, and began walking over to us. He moved to the side of me opposite of Draco. The three of us smiled and Greengrass took the picture, then walked to Blaise and handed him his camera with an insolent look on her face. "Thanks for a great night," she said sarcastically before stomping up to the girl's dorm.

I looked at the other two. Draco and I struggled not to smirk, though Blaise didn't bother. He shrugged one shoulder before saying, "Good night you two."

"'Night," Draco and I said.

For the moment, Draco and I were the only ones in the common room. I leaned forward and kissed him. His eyes were still closed when I pulled back. He opened them and smiled at me. "Good night, Draco."

"Good night, Bella." The two of us went to our respective common rooms. I didn't know about Draco, but I was wearing a small, secret smile.


	10. Tutor

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Tutor

"I cannot believe Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, pacing back and forth in front of the table we had claimed in the library (of course, where else would we possibly be?). She was, once again, complaining about one of her best friends. "He told me he had the egg figured out ages ago, when, truly, he hadn't! The task is a mere week away and he doesn't have the faintest idea of what to do to complete the task!"

Whilst I seldom found Hermione's rants terribly interesting, I normally listened to her with rapt attention. Today, however, I had other concerns on my mind. I was staring down at my latest essay for Herbology. I had turned it in last week, and been given it back today. The grade upon the essay was less than outstanding. The grades on many of my Herbology papers were less than outstanding. These grades did not fit in well with the rest of my grades, and when my parents found out, they would not be pleased. The problem was, the herbs used in Britain for my Herbology class and the herbs used in France for my Herbology class were slightly different. Also, I learned about most herbs by the French name rather than their English name. I had been having a bit of trouble adjusting (it didn't help that Herbology had always been my worst subject, keep in mind, given my brains the term 'worst subject' is relative). It's wasn't as though my grades in Herbology were bad, they just were not great, which is unacceptable in the Hawthorne family.

For the first half of the year, I had been sure I could handle it by myself. I thought that I would merely need to work harder in Herbology than in my other subjects, obviously this wasn't working. It was time for me to admit defeat. I needed outside help. How I despised asking my peers for help on school assignments. It meant admitting that someone else was better than me at something.

"I can't believe how irresponsible Harry is sometimes!" Hermione continued on.

"Hermione?" I asked, interrupting her.

"Yes?" She asked, looking down at me (I, unlike Hermione, tended to remain in my seat during her tirades).

I heaved a sigh before saying, "I need a bit of help in Herbology. Would you happen to know someone who could tutor me a bit?" Imagine, me needing a tutor. It was positively disgraceful. I hoped my parents never found out.

"You're having trouble in Herbology?" Hermione asked, surprised. She stared at me for a few minutes. Probably out of shock. After constantly seeing how good I was in all our other subjects, I didn't blame her for the surprise. She shook her herself out of it after a moment and said, "Well, Neville Longbottom is quite good at Herbology, I'm sure he would be able to help you."

"Longbottom?" I asked in disbelief. "You mean the boy who always does dreadful in potions?"

"He only does so badly because Professor Snape terrifies him," Hermione said defensively. "I know that Neville doesn't seem very capable, and in most subjects he's not, but he truly does know his herbology. _And_ he wouldn't go around telling people he was tutoring you." Hermione gave me a significant look. Unicorn's blood. I supposed there were many students who if I asked to tutor me would go around telling people that the excellent student Bella Hawthorne was being tutored by them.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked Hermione doubtfully. It wasn't that I didn't trust Hermione's judgment, but the chap did absolutely awful in potions. I couldn't recall a single time where he had correctly completed a potion. He gave the impression that he was an incompetent person all the way through. If Hermione thought so much of him, perhaps Herbology was the one thing in his life that he excelled at. Most people have at least one thing they are capable of excelling at.

"I am definitely sure," Hermione firmly stated. "I'm not sure how good he will be at teaching someone else Herbology, but I assure you that Neville knows his Herbology. Why don't I set it all up for you? I'll talk to Neville, and then get back to you. How does that sound?"

"Okay," I said, not feeling okay at all. I had serious doubts about this situation. If Hermione's other friends weren't so stupid then Hermione could probably tutor me. However, her friends Weasley and Potter were, apparently, deficient in a number of subjects and often needed either Hermione's help or her assignment to copy. The wankers.

Hermione and I looked up as we heard someone walking towards our table. It was the Weasley girl, Ginny, I believe, was her name. She was focused on Hermione, looking as though she had something to tell her. When the Weasley girl got a bit closer, she looked over and saw me. She stopped, sniffed, then turned and walked towards the invisibility section, acting as though she had never had any intention of walking towards us at all.

I gave Hermione a confused look. "What was that about?" I had never looked at, let alone talked to Weasley before ( I knew who she was because Hermione had told me a bit about her, and how many kids at this school had bright red hair and freckles?); I couldn't imagine what she could possibly have against me.

"I don't have the foggiest idea," Hermione responded. "I'll ask her about it later."

The next morning, Hermione strode over to me as I walked into the Great Hall for breakfast.

"It's all set!" She told me cheerfully. "Neville will meet you in the library during break tomorrow."

"Thanks," I told her, unenthusiastically. "I'll make sure to be there."

"Don't worry, Bella," she said, patting me on the shoulder. "I'm sure it will be fine." Right.

The two classes I had before break went too swiftly for my tastes. At lunch, I ate quickly. I figured that the quicker I started my study session with Longbottom, the quicker I could end it.

Upon finishing my lunch I stood up and grabbed my bag. "Where are you going?" Draco asked in surprise. He had been talking about going to the common room and making more 'Support Cedric/ Potter Stinks' badges for the Triwizard Tournament and, apparently, assumed I was coming along.

"There's just something I need to take care of during break." I would _never_ tell them that I needed tutoring for a class. I leaned down and kissed Draco's cheek. "I'll see you later."

I walked hurriedly to the library, hoping I wouldn't have to wait long for Longbottom. I sat at the table farthest from the front of the library. While waiting, I took out my Herbology book and the latest assignment, which was an essay on the uses of pus from Bubotuber plants.

Longbottom entered the library after I had been waiting for about five minutes. He had a nervous look on his face and walked slowly towards the table I was seated at. It was _incredibly_ annoying. "H-hel-hello, Hawthorne," he stammered as he put his book bag on the table, which promptly fell off and scattered his books and writing instruments everywhere.

I rolled my eyes. "Hello, Longbottom."

"S-so Hermione t-tells me that you're having a bit of trouble in Herbology." Was he going to stutter the entire time? I would definitely break if he did. Why was he so scared? I hadn't ever done anything to him before, and Hermione had told him about me, surely he trusted her judgment?

"Yes, that would be the problem," I responded.

"So, can you tell me what it is that you struggle with in Herbology?"

I explained to him my confusion with some of the herbs we used being different from the herbs I used in France, and getting confused with using the English names instead of the French. I also explained my underlying problem with Herbology, the fact that I didn't understand how the herbs worked. I did well with potions because I understood what all of the ingredients did and how they affected each other, I had no such comprehension when it came to Herbology.

Longbottom began to explain how the various herbs worked (specifically Bubotuber plants, as that's what we were currently studying). I was, to be frank, shocked. Longbottom _did_ know his herbology. And once he began talking about herbology, which he was obviously passionate about, he stopped stuttering. I would never have believed that Longbottom could be such a great tutor if I hadn't been there myself.

As break was nearing an end he said to me, "I'm not sure about the differences between herbs used in France and in Britain, and I'm not so sure about the different names either, but I can look it up for you if you want, then you could make charts. One chart could show what an herb was called in French and what it's called in English. The other chart could show what herbs you would use to substitute the ones that you used in France." That was . . . inordinately kind of him. I wasn't used to being around kindness like this. It was rather odd, but interesting to observe. Though, honestly, it was too nice for my liking, I felt I needed to offer him something in return.

"I have a proposition for you, Longbottom. If you continue to help me in Herbology, then I will help you in Potions."

"Really?" He asked, perking up in his seat. "Thanks, Hawthorne! That's really great of you." As he finished his sentence, the bell rang, signaling the end of break.

"I'll see you later, Longbottom."

"Bye, Hawthorne!"

Great, I thought as I walked out of the library. How was I supposed to hide this? Now we would be meeting for both him and me to be tutored. What a pain in the arse.

When I reached my Arithmancy class, Hermione had an expectant look on her face. "How did it go?" She asked.

I shrugged. "You were right, Longbottom is good at herbology. He was surprisingly helpful."

"You see? This is why you shouldn't judge people only by what you see of them. They could surprise you."

"People like Draco Malfoy?" I asked her, staring at her with one eyebrow raised.

Hermione flushed. "That's a different situation," she said, obviously flustered. "Neville _appears _to be only a clumsy and forgetful boy. Malfoy _is _an awful and terrible git." A double standard, eh? How terribly backward of her.

"Are you sure?" I asked Hermione. "You've only seen him in a certain setting. Maybe if you saw him in a different setting you'd think differently about him."

Hermione waved her hands like she was pushing something annoying away. "That isn't the point of this conversation. Did you set up another meeting with Neville?"

"No, but I did offer to help him in Potions since he's helping me in Herbology."

"Oh, Bella, that's brilliant! Now you'll both benefit from your study sessions. That was kind of you." I froze in my seat. Here's a little tip for you, _never ever _call me kind, or any variation of the word.

I gritted my teeth and said, "I am not _kind_ in any way shape or form. I just don't like to _owe_ anybody. That was my sole motivation for offering to help the boy." I turned resolutely to the front of the class and didn't talk to Hermione for the rest of the lesson.

_Kind_. What an awful word. What an awful trait. Kindness was a terrible weakness. I never wanted there to be any cause for that word to be attributed to me. Who (aside from weaklings) would want that word attached to themselves? It was simply an utter waste of one's time to be kind, and it tended to accomplish very little, for the kind person, anyway. For those who took advantage of others' kindness, it might accomplish quite a bit. _No one_ would ever take advantage of me. I was careful to be sure of that.

Unfortunately, Hermione's and mine clever plan for no one finding out about the tutoring did not quite go as planned, as I found out later that week. As I walked out of the Great Hall from lunch, I was accosted by a pair of red-headed twins; who each put an arm around my shoulders.

"What's this we hear about you needing a tutor?" George asked.

It was only through great self-control on my part that I didn't stiffen. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said in a voice that was both airy and haughty. "I study nearly every day and am an absolutely _excellent_ student."

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Fred began. "We are _hurt_ that you did not trust us with this sensitive information." Apparently, he was ignoring what I'd just said. "How could you think that the two of us, your sometimes partners in crime, would do anything untoward with this information?"

"Of course," George said, "we were going to ask you for help with a prank that involved some rather interesting herbs. . ."

"But now that we know this, our plans have fallen apart," Fred continued.

I gritted my teeth and said, "The two of you were planning no such thing. And the two of you are _not_ amusing."

"Now, now, no need to throw wild accusations around," said George. "We were absolutely planning something with some herbs."

"And the two of us are plenty amusing," stated Fred. "You know you just adore our sense of humor."

"Anyways, since we now need to abandon our previous brilliant plan-" I rolled my eyes, "we were wondering if you wanted to help us with a little prank on Filch instead."

This told me that everything they had said before the last sentence was merely to harass me, as it had nothing to do with the point of the conversation. I sighed. "You both know that I am always up for a good prank, but if you breathe a _word_ of the herbology thing to anyone, than I will tell everyone that you came to me for help with your pranks. Understand?"


	11. Rita Skeeter

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Rita Skeeter

Though it was only early March, it was a beautiful day outside. Hermione and I were taking advantage of the good weather and doing our Ancient Runes homework outside. We'd been working in silence for around an hour when Potter showed. "Hello, Hermione. Hawthorne," he said, sitting down beside us. Well, that was rude. I did not recall either of us inviting him to sit down.

"Hello, Harry."

"Potter."

"I was wondering if I could ask you a question about charms," Harry said to Hermione. "We have that essay on the charm that does the opposite of the _accio_ charm, but neither Ron nor I understand it. Could you explain it to me?"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "That essay is due tomorrow! Honestly, the procrastinating the two of you do is ridiculous. You'd better not be planning on behaving the same way next year. Where's Ron?"

"Er, he's got some Transfiguration homework to catch up on. I figured I would get the information from you while he did that, and then tell him what you told me." I rolled my eyes. This was the great 'boy who lived'? No wonder Draco thought so little of him.

Hermione heaved a sigh before saying, "All right, I'll tell you the basic facts, but you had better start paying more attention in class! And try to look at your books on occasion, you have them for a reason, you know." Hermione then launched into a lengthy speech while Potter took a few notes.

When she finished Potter looked at what Hermione and I had been doing previously. "What are you guys studying?" He asked.

"We _were_ studying Ancient Runes," I drawled. Potter looked abashed and Hermione glared at me. I failed to see why I should be nice to her other friends when I knew she wouldn't be nice to mine. Oh well. "Great job on the second task. It was quite inspired of you to use gillyweed. Your idea was the best of the three used for the task. And it was right fine of you to make sure all of the victims got back okay." More like right dim-witted of him. Had he honestly believed that the victims would be killed if they weren't saved?

"Thanks," he said, surprised.

"Now what's this?" I heard a voice asked. I looked around and saw a blond woman with rhinestone covered glasses and a quill in her hand standing behind Hermione. Both Potter and Hermione became much frostier when they saw her. "Another addition to the love triangle? Is it Hermione Granger who has competition this time around?" Her ludicrous statements greatly confused me.

"Excuse me, who are you?" I asked her, somewhat rudely.

"She's Rita Skeeter, a writer for the _Daily Prophet_, and she's not supposed to be here," Hermione spat. Ah, so this was woman who always wrote all sorts of crazy stories that had no basis in truth. I mean, Hermione brewing love potions? Truly? What sort of an idiot would believe that Hermione would ever do that?

"Don't be silly, girl," Skeeter said condescendingly. "Stories must be told and the people must hear the truth."

"What truth?" Potter exploded. "You haven't wrote anything but a bunch of lies!"

Skeeter ignored him and turned to Bella. "Now, who are you dear? A new girlfriend helping Potter to get over his heartbreak? Or perhaps another attention seeker like the last one. Go on, dear, tell me your name." I was shocked that a paper as reputable as the _Daily Prophet_ employed a woman such as this.

I tilted my head to the side and said, "My name is Bella Hawthorne. I do believe that you are acquainted with my father, Richard Hawthorne?" Skeeter paled a bit and seemed to lose her enthusiasm for including me in her latest batch of lies.

The problem with going around and insulting most of the people you came across is that some people simply will not tolerate it. My father happened to be one of them. Last year my parents had been to some gathering of the Minister's. Skeeter had not portrayed my mother in a positive light; something about 'a French foreigner attempting to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic by good looks'. My father had not appreciated the article. He let Skeeter know he didn't appreciate it. By cursing every last item in her house. I do wish I could have seen what followed. It must have been terribly amusing to watch her attempt to use item after item in her house, and having each of them do some dreadful thing or another. Of course, there was no proof that my father did anything; he's much too clever for that.

"Well then," she began, giving me a fierce glare. "I'll just be going on my way then." She turned and began to wander off.

Potter and Hermione stared at me. "What was that about?" Hermione asked me.

"I don't have the foggiest," I said in an innocent voice, shrugging my shoulders. Knowing what I knew of the woman, she would probably still print her story, she would just say that a 'mystery woman' was involved rather than using my name.

"You know what I would like to know?" I asked, attempting to change the subject. "If she's not allowed on the school grounds, how are all the Slytherins giving her exclusives? She has quotes from them in most of her articles. I think I'll go ask them right now. See you later, Hermione. Bye, Potter."

"What!" Hermione called as I gathered my stuff. "You're just going to leave without giving an explanation? Obviously, something is going on here."

"Don't be silly, Hermione. There's no explanation for me to give, as there's nothing going on. Good afternoon." I nodded at her before walking back towards the castle. Though I had only been trying to change the subject, I was curious as to what the answer to my question was. I made my way to the Slytherin common to ask Draco.

I was happy to see that Draco was sitting in the common room. I was even happier to see that tweedle-dum and tweedle-dummer were not present. I walked over to him and sat down. Draco looked up from the homework he was working on. "Yes?" He drawled.

"I was wondering how you and other students were in contact with Rita Skeeter when she has been banned from the Hogwarts' school grounds. And why are you all telling her such fanciful lies?"

It was immediately obvious that my innocuous words did not have a very positive effect on Draco. His eyes narrowed in anger. "Why? Is your precious little friend upset? Did we hurt the little Mudblood's feelings? It's sick how concerned you are over her, you know. She and Potter deserve every word that's been printed about them. I'm sure Potter has been lapping it up; he loves publicity, no matter where it comes from." Right. That was why Potter appeared to hate Skeeter to much.

Draco got up from the couch and began pacing in front of it. Apparently, Draco had too much energy to continue sitting. "You know, I'm getting really tired of this. Who cares that the Slytherins are giving exclusives to a writer from the _Daily Prophet_? They need to report on the Triwizard Tournament, and since Dumbledore is so incompetent, it's the only way they can even get a story. It's not like anything that was printed wasn't close enough to the truth, and even if it wasn't, what do you care? Since when do you care if lies are printed about someone?"

The thing I wanted to do most was get up and start shouting right back at Draco. Unfortunately, I was trying hard to make things work between us. Also, I could only accomplish my personal mission if Draco and I were on good terms. So, I gritted my teeth, stood up from the couch, and said to Draco what I considered telling him the night of the Yule Ball.

"Draco, you're more important to me than some stupid prejudice or non-prejudice thing." I didn't care if that didn't make sense, it got my point across, so I was satisfied with it. "If it is truly that important to you, I will stop being friends with Hermione."

Draco smiled and I almost smiled back. It was always wonderful to see Draco smile rather than smirk. Of course, this smile was a bit mean looking unlike his real smile, but I would take what I could get. "Truly?" He asked. I nodded. "You would really do that for me?"

"Yes, Dray. I really, really, _really_ don't want to, but I will."

Draco stared at me for a few moments. I stood in a bit of agony. "Though I have _never_ had a friend like Hermione before, as you are well aware. She is really and truly important to me, just not as important as you are."

Draco turned away from me and said in a 'who-cares' sort of voice, "I don't care what you do, just keep the filthy Mudblood away from me and don't talk about her around me."

I am ashamed to say that I shrieked, but I did. I ran up behind Draco and threw my arms around him. "Thank you, Draco!" I exclaimed before turning my head and kissing his neck. "You. Are. So. Wonderful!" I paused between each word to kiss Draco again on his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but you owe me for this, Bella." That was not the most thrilling thing in the world, but I was too excited about him letting me be friends with Hermione to be too worried. Of course, I rankled at the thought that he _gave_ me his permission. Truly, I didn't need his permission to do anything. Once again, why was it me who was making all the sacrifices in this relationship? You can't even claim that it's my fault for being friends with someone whom he despises, as he is friends with Parkinson, whom I obviously despise.

Actually, if you looked at the situation from the outside, one would think I hated Parkinson more than Draco hated Hermione, which I didn't believe was the case. I tended to be more aggressive towards people I hated than Draco was. He more had a tendency to complain and gossip about them. How amusing, for most couples it was probably the other way around. Well, that's what you get for having two parents who strongly believed in attacking (in any way shape or form) anyone who you considered to be your enemy. My parents. They're just impossible not to adore.

The next say, my prediction came true. Though my name was not mentioned, I still featured in Rita Skeeter's article. Well, more or less. The entire article was complete rubbish.

New Beginnings?  
An article by Rita Skeeter

Harry Potter, star of the Triwizard Tournament, survivor of being cursed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and recent victim of the machinations by the attention seeking witch Hermione Granger, perhaps has a new silver lining in sight. A concerned classmate of Harry's has recently taken issue with Hermione Granger. The two girls were seen fighting over Harry yesterday.  
The outer beauty of this new mystery girl is matched only by her inner beauty. What Harry has to say about her is, "She is absolutely amazing. She is one-hundred percent supportive of me being in the Triwizard Tournament, and her support has helped me through everything that has been going on." This new girl is also quite gifted mentally, and so will be able to counter any love spells performed by Granger.  
Has our young hero found love at last? Or will this mystery girl lead to new heartbreak? Perhaps she is an even greater attention seeker than Harry's last girlfriend or perhaps she is his true love. Only time will tell. Stay tuned to discover what will happen next in the tumultuous life of our dear, depressed hero.

I put the article down in disgust. I doubted Draco would continue to give Rita Skeeter exclusive interview if he was aware who the so-called 'mystery girl' was. The idea of Potter and me together was preposterous. I didn't even like the boy. Admittedly, I mostly knew him through Draco's eyes, and somewhat through Hermione's, but from what I knew of him I doubted the two of us were compatible.

Draco picked up the paper I'd just thrown down (which I had taken from him in the first place as I didn't order the _Daily Prophet_). "Odd," he said after reading Skeeter's article. "I wonder who this 'mystery girl' is."

"It very likely isn't anyone," I told him. I saw no reason at all for Draco to know it was me. It might put silly ideas into his head. "You know that woman has no issue with making things up in order to write a good story."

"It's probably just someone stupid like the Weasley girl. Or one of Potter's many adoring fans," Draco sneered. After three years of reading Draco's letters on Potter, and part of a year hearing him speak about Potter, it was obvious that Draco was jealous. Draco always did like to be the center of attention. If it were Draco in Potter's position, Draco would milk it for all it was worth. He must truly despise that someone at this school regularly upstaged him without even lifting a finger. Why couldn't Draco just focus on the things that set him apart from others, the things that made him special?


	12. Detention

A/N: So, I'm not sure how next week's update is going to go. I'm in Ireland this week and a lot of the places I'm staying at don't offer internet, so I may not be able to post next week's chapter until Monday night.

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Detention

Hermione and I were in the library working on our Arithmancy homework. I was, once again, being regaled with tales of Potter. I was thrilled Hermione had such a great friend, truly I was, but I sick of hearing about him. Hearing her relate stories about Potter and Weasley made me want to relate stories about Blaise and Draco. But whenever I did this Hermione's mouth would get very thin and she tended to pretend she needed to focus more attention on her studying. Perhaps I merely needed to act the same way when she began speaking of Potter and Weasley.

"I am just so worried about what the third task will be. I mean, Harry has done brilliant in the first two, but who knows what will happen in the third task. What if this time he fails? What if he _dies_ this time? Or is seriously hurt?"

"Well, brooding about the subject certainly won't help matters." Hermione glared at me. Apparently, my comment was not appreciated. "Well it won't. You keep telling me what a great wizard Potter is. Either you believe in him, or you don't. Yes, the Triwizard Tournament is meant for more experienced students, but there was a time when there was not an age restriction on the tournament, and I'm sure that younger students were sometimes chosen because the Goblet of Fire felt those students had what it took to get through the tournament. I'm sure Potter will be just fine."

Hermione still looked uncertain. Truly, the girl spent so much time worrying it was a wonder she didn't have worry lines permanently etched into her face. "I know all that, but it's just so dangerous."

At this point, our conversation was interrupted by a group of noisy students entering the library. One of the group loudly said, "Can you believe that Granger is the most important person to Krum? He must have been hit on the head by one too many bludgers, I'm sure. Though, I bet Granger's pleased. It was probably the highlight of her entire life." Parkinson. What a nuisance.

Hermione flushed and looked more closely at the arithmancy book she had in front of her. She had been dealing with a lot of gossip and teasing over her being the one Krum cared for most. I thought it was sweet. What girl wouldn't love to know she was her boyfriend's favorite person? Though, I wasn't quite sure if Hermione and Krum were actually dating. Sometimes I would come into the library to find him sitting with her, and sometimes he would come and join Hermione and me (when this happened I generally made up an excuse to leave within a few minutes, for which I believed Krum was grateful for, but I wasn't so certain about Hermione).

I stood up and pulled out my wand. "Bella, don't," Hermione hissed quietly. I ignored her and performed the Bat-Bogey hex upon Parkinson. Unfortunately, Madam Pince, the librarian, chose that exact moment to come around a bookshelf and happened to see me hexing Parkinson.

She froze, her face becoming contorted. "How dare you!" She shrieked. "This is an outrage! Abusing a library in such way! It's sacrilege! Get out! Get out! GET OUT!"

Hermione and I hurriedly grabbed our things and scurried out. Behind us we heard Madam Pince yelling, "That goes for you as well. All of you get out!"

When we were a safe distance from the library Hermione stopped walking. She turned to me and said, "You really shouldn't have done that Bella. All it accomplished was getting you into trouble. It wasn't worth it."

"I don't care," I said. "She insulted my friend. How could I possibly just sit there?"

Hermione laughed a little. "Bella, if it doesn't bother me, it certainly shouldn't bother you. Please don't hex people on my behalf."

I said nothing and continued walking. "You have your way of handling things, and I have my way," I said vaguely.

"Bella!" She admonished me, but said nothing more on the subject.

That night at dinner I found that my actions bore more consequences than merely being yelled at by the librarian. A lone owl flew down and landed in front of my plate. It held out its foot, which had a small piece of parchment attached to it. I untied it and read the untidy writing.

Miss Hawthorne,

Your actions earlier in the library have earned you a detention. Please report to my classroom after dinner tonight.

-Professor Severus Snape

I smirked after reading the letter. A detention was an annoyance, but I was sure that serving it under Snape would hardly make it a punishment for me.

"What is that?" Draco asked, leaning over my shoulder to look at the parchment in my hands.

"Apparently, I have detention for hexing someone in the library earlier today. I'm to report to Professor Snape's classroom after dinner."

"So, your first detention," Draco stated. "Your father will not be too pleased." That was true. While my father would not condemn the action which led to my detention, he would condemn me actually getting detention. He believed that if one was going to accost another person, they should do it in such a way that they received the least amount of consequence for their actions.

"Who did you hex?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Parkinson."

Blaise shook his head. "What is the problem between you two?" He asked.

"Well don't look at me. It's not my fault. She started the problem between us and she's the one who keeps it going. I am merely the victim here. Besides, if she would stay out of my way I would leave her alone."

Blaise looked skeptical. "And by stay out of your way do you mean she shouldn't so much as speak when in your presence, and perhaps not speak to any of your friends?"

"What else would I mean?" I asked.

Blaise smirked at me. "There are times, Bella, when I look at some of your friend choices and I begin to wonder why you're in Slytherin, but soon after that happens you always remind me why you belong with us."

I smiled sweetly at him.

After dinner, I went to the Potions classroom to serve my detention. I opened the door slowly. It was weird to be coming here when I didn't have class. Whenever I picked up my potion for my breathing from Professor Snape I would do it right after class or go to his office.

Professor Snape was sitting at his desk when I walked in.

"Good evening, Miss Hawthorne," Professor Snape said in his drawling voice.

"Good evening, Professor Snape."

"Attacking our housemates, are we?" He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"Er, yes sir." I shifted from foot to foot. I couldn't tell how upset he was with me.

"Might I ask what caused you to hex Miss Parkinson?"

"Parkinson insulted a friend of mine with the intention of causing her mental distress. I took issue with that, Professor."

"Yes, well in the future try to better control yourself. Do refrain from attacking other students unless it is in defense of yourself."

"I'll try, Professor."

Snape gave me sardonic look before saying, "Tonight you will be helping me to organize my storeroom."

"Yes, Professor," I said as Snape got up from his desk and unlocked the potions store room. I had been correct. I didn't consider spending a few hours with my favorite teacher while handling potion ingredients that I wouldn't get to use until my sixth or seventh year to be a punishment.

The storeroom was kept in good order, which was unsurprising as bad things can happen if you store certain potion ingredients next to each other. The problem was that Professor Snape had recently received an order of ingredients and the storeroom now needed to be reorganized for everything to fit.

"How have you been liking Hogwarts?" Snape asked as we worked.

"Quite well, sir," I responded. "I find things to be more relaxed and pleasant than at Beauxbatons, and I must say that I was not overly excited that this was the year in which the Triwizard Tournament occurred."

"Yes, it appears as though you did not get along well with your classmates at Beauxbatons. Of course, the same could be said of a number of your classmates here." I was fairly certain he was referring to my issues with my fellow housemates.

"Sir," I began cautiously, afraid of what his answer would be, "do you think that I am in the wrong trying to have friends in both Slytherin and Gryffindor?"

Snape was silent for a few moments while he appeared to think on his response. "There are no rules that you cannot have friends in both. It is difficult to do so and I daresay that you will have great trouble attempting to both please and keep all of your friends throughout your years at Hogwarts, but I believe it can be good to have friends within the other houses. You are separated into houses so that you will mostly be around people who are similar to you, but I am sure the founders of Hogwarts had no intention for students to only have friends from their own house."

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Thank you, Professor."

A few minutes later Professor Snape said, "The Beauxbatons' champion seems to particularly dislike you. Out of curiosity, what did you do to attract the ire of a student so much older than yourself?"

"To be honest, Professor Snape, I'm not quite sure. My guess is that she was offended that a student such as myself was allowed to attend Beauxbatons, as I'm the opposite of most the students there. When they were quiet, I was loud; when they were well-behaved, I was performing pranks. Admittedly, not all of this was merely because my personality clashed with the school, at times I was deliberately attempting to be rebellious in order to express my displeasure with Beauxbatons. Also, I have heard the claim that she is jealous that I'm as pretty as her even though I don't have Veela blood."

Even just talking about Beauxbatons riled me up. I truly had despised attending that school. I'd never had a desire to go there. It was a point of contention between my parents. Both wished for their child to attend their alma mater. They grudgingly decided (before having any children) that if they had a girl she would attend Beauxbatons and if they had a boy he would attend Hogwarts. I was not pleased with this arrangement. However, when I expressed my displeasure my mother's response had been, "You only wish to attend 'Ogwarts because zat iz where Blaise and Draco are going. You will make plenty of friendz at Beauxbatons." As it turned out, I never made a single friend there. Though, I did have a few male slaves, for lack of a better word. Those can come in handy.

"From the sound of things, Hogwarts ought to be glad that you enjoy it here. I can't imagine a student of your caliber behaving in such a way, but then again I've never seen you in a situation where you were as unhappy as you were at Beauxbatons. I doubt your parents approved of what you were doing."

"No, not at all. Mum was especially disappointed in my behavior. She wished for me to be a model student, as she had been when she attended. My father was empathetic, as he wished for me to attend Hogwarts as well; however, he wished I would at least act with more dignity. Unsurprisingly, I spent much of my home life being grounded."

After that we fell into companionable silence. Seeing as I enjoyed both organizing and talking with Snape, my detention didn't seem long at all to me. At around ten-thirty, we finished with organizing the storeroom.

Before excusing me to leave Professor Snape asked, "Do you have enough of your potion?"

"At the moment, but I'll probably need more by next week," I said, hitching my bag up higher on my shoulder.

"Very well. Are you taking your potion regularly?" He asked with a critical look in his eyes. At times, I was a bit remiss in taking my potion. It wasn't exactly a delight to my taste buds.

"Yes, Professor. I have been doing better lately."

"You would do well to keep up with that. Good night, Miss Hawthorne."

"Good night, Professor Snape."


	13. Divination

A/N: I have internet and time to post tonight! Of course, it's afternoon stateside, but 8 pm here in Ireland.

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family.

Divination

"No!" I exclaimed. "You must be careful and pay strict attention! Everything in potions must be done in the exact order with the exact amount, or it can go horribly wrong." I was in the library, helping Longbottom with potions. Our tutoring sessions had gone well so far. I'd made improvements in Herbology and he had made improvement in Potions. Though, my progress in Herbology was better than Longbottom's in Potions. It appeared to me that Longbottom's greatest issue with Potions was his fear of Professor Snape. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do to help him with that. My hope was to get him good enough that he wouldn't make too big of mistakes whenever Snape hovered over his potion or criticized him.

"Sorry, Hawthorne," Longbottom mumbled. I waved my wand to clear the botched potion out of the cauldron.

Today, Madam Pince was busy putting away books in a section far away from where Longbottom and I were sitting. I'd made sure of that before starting. I was certain that if Madam Pince were to come across us brewing a potion in the library she would internally combust. Or attempt to make Longbottom and me combust.

Hermione, who was a few tables away with Weasley and Potter, occasionally shot us disapproving looks. She felt that since Longbottom and I were actually brewing a potion, we should do it elsewhere. However, unless we were willing to practice in the middle of the hall, I was unaware of anywhere else we could go since we didn't share a common room. If the circumstances were different, I would ask Professor Snape if he would allow us to use his classroom, but, given the circumstances, I felt that might be counterproductive.

"Now," I began in an instructional voice, "read each direction carefully to make sure you perform each one correctly. When you move on to the next step, remember to read the direction right above it to make sure you're not skipping a step. If you find it necessary, mark off each direction with your quill as you do it. Don't worry, the book is yours and you can write in it as much as you like."

Longbottom screwed up his eyes a bit and performed each step slowly and carefully. I got bored waiting for him to finish, but at least going at this pace he wasn't making any mistakes.

"I did it!" He exclaimed after finishing, then he looked at me worriedly. "I did do it, didn't I?"

"Yes," I said, smiling at him. "You did it correctly. Good job, Longbottom."

"Thanks, Hawthorne! So, are we done here for today?"

"Yes, we're done for today." I stretched and looked over at Hermione's table. For the moment, she was alone. It appeared that either her friends were looking for books, or they had vacated the library. I got up from my seat and moved over to her table. I noticed, with distaste, that either Potter or Weasley had left a crystal ball on the table.

Hermione, looking up from her studying and seeing my look, said, "Oh, I know. I hate divination to. It's a load of rubbish. I find it ridiculous that a school as reputable as Hogwarts has a class such as that. I was actually in divination for most of last year. It was a total waste of my time and energy. I can't believe that some people buy into it."

Though I couldn't stand what I like to call the faux art of divination and those who believed in it, it wasn't my primary reason for disliking it. Not by a long shot. "All of that is true, but you are aware that there are true seers, aren't you?"

"Oh, Bella, not you too! Are you going to tell me that you believe that some people have the 'inner eye'?"

Given Hermione's experience with divination (I had heard rumors of the fraudulent Professor Trelawny) I could see why she was so skeptical. Although, I was surprised she hadn't looked deeper into the matter. "There are many texts you could find on true seers, Hermione. Having a divination class is quite silly, as any school would be unlikely to have so much as one seer for a student, let alone enough to fill an entire class. It's not a skill that can be learned, but rather one that someone is born with, much like with a Metamorphmagus."

Hermione looked rather dubious. "I suppose that you believe you've met a true seer?"

"Oh yes, I have," I said quietly. I had met the greatest living seer in France. There were some who heralded her as the greatest seer of our time. I had the sad misfortune of being related to her.

"And what exactly is she like?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "Did she dazzle you with predictions about your future? Was she mystical and all-knowing?"

I ignored the second and third part of her question. "She is one of the most evil women I have ever met," I said seriously.

Hermione quieted out of surprise. "Where did you meet her?" Hermione asked with less force in her voice.

"In France," I said shortly. "She runs a school for there for seers. Her school has students from all over the world and is very select in who is admitted. She's very arrogant and choosy about whom she will see to make predictions for. She certainly makes herself out to be much more important than she actually is."

"If she's so discriminatory about those she'll see, then how did you come to meet her, Bella?"

"My mother knows her," I said in a tone of voice which invited no more on the subject of French seers.

"Well, do you honestly believe that someone could look into that ball of fog and see anything?" She asked, gesturing to the crystal ball situated on the table.

I stared at it and thought that I most certainly believed someone could. Especially considering as, unfortunately, I was one of them. Even as I stared into it, shapes began to form out of the mist. It was a tall, intricate maze. I had a terrible feeling about that maze. I shook my head and stared resolutely away from the crystal ball.

I have a lot of raw, natural talent, but as I have never and will never be trained in the art of divination, I'll never be a great seer. I hate the fact that I am a seer. I truly hate it. Not only does it remind me of my grandmother, my mother's mother (obviously, since she's in France), but the power scared me. I didn't see small, everyday events (as I understood it, that only occasionally happened unless the seer in question had minimal talent); I saw bigger events of which I had little comprehension of and desired no comprehension of. Why anyone would want to know the future was incomprehensible to me. It was terrifying to know, and besides, life was much more fun without knowing. It was more of an adventure that way.

"Bella?" Hermione prodded quietly.

"Sorry," I said smiling weakly. "I got lost in thought. You really should check out some literature on great seers of the past. If for nothing else, then just to see what you think."

Hermione's lips thinned. "I'll think on it," she said. "Though at the moment, I've got no time. Harry found out what the final task will be and Ron and I are helping Harry to practice a variety of jinxes and charms so that he'll be ready."

"What is the third task?" I asked curiously.

"It's a maze. They grew it over the quidditch field. It's going to be twenty feet tall and have all sorts of creatures in it."

I barely registered what Hermione said after she uttered that the third task was a maze. I felt dread seeping into my body. Don't be stupid I told myself. You don't know that what you saw had anything to do with the third task. It could have been symbolic of something else. Anything else. You see why I hate being seer? It's awful. Assuming that what I had seen was the final task, what did it accomplish? Absolutely nothing. Nothing aside from giving me a keen sense of terror and a terrible foreboding about that upcoming task.

What was going to happen during the final task? My guess was that one of the champions was going to die. I hoped it was Delacour. Not because I despised her that much, but because from my stand point she was the most logical one for me to hope to die. Both Diggory and Potter were the Hogwarts champions; either of their deaths would greatly affect the entire school (not to mention that one of them was a best friend of one of my best friends, and would cause her great personal pain). Krum dying, with him being Hermione's sort-of boyfriend, would cause also cause Hermione personal pain. He was also a professional quidditch star, so many people around the world would mourn his death. Delacour meant nothing personally to anyone at Hogwarts. Yes, the school would be sad if she died, but not as sad as if one of our own champions died. That was why I hoped it would be Delacour. I was merely being pragmatic.

"Are you still concerned about how Potter will do in the third task?" I asked Hermione.

"Not as much now, no. Of course, I'm still a bit worried. Who knows what creatures the champions will encounter in the maze? There's also the fact that Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, is one of the people supplying creatures and he is into some rather frightening monsters."

"Well, wish Potter luck from me, would you?"

Hermione looked surprised, then said, "You could wish it to him yourself, you know."

"No, I don't think I will. I'm afraid that if you want him to hear it, you're going to have to tell him. I'll never live it down if the Slytherins found out I wished Potter good luck." I gave Hermione a cheery wave and left the library. If I hadn't been stupid enough to look into the crystal ball, I wouldn't have bothered to tell Hermione to wish Potter good luck from me. However, I was concerned by what I'd seen. Not that Potter being wished good luck from me would change anything, but it was a nice gesture on my part.

I ran into Draco as I walked towards the Slytherin common room. I was surprised to see he wasn't accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle. "What do you think the chances are of things going wrong in the third task?" I asked Draco.

Draco seemed bewildered as to why I was asking him this question. "I don't know. Nothing has gone wrong so far, but maybe the most dangerous task is saved for last. If something does go wrong, I hope Potter is on the end of it."

"Do you really?" I asked curiously. "Would you really be happy if something dreadful happened to him or if he died?"

"Yes, 'course. I've told you plenty about all of the trouble that git has caused me. Why? Would you care if something happened to precious Potter?"

"Not beyond the fact that it would cause pain to Hermione, who is my friend. Potter means nothing to me personally. It just seems to me that it would be a bit frightening to have a student die in the tournament. It also seems to me like it would be a bad omen to have one of our own students die, no matter the circumstances, don't you think?"

Draco looked at me with some surprise. "A bad omen? Bella, what are you talking about? Are you okay?"

Another bad thing about being a seer was that I tended to act a little off for a while after I saw something. I shook my head a bit and said, "Never mind. It's nothing, Draco," before I continued to the common room. I felt Draco's eyes follow me as I left and wondered what he was thinking.


	14. The Return of the Dark Lord

Disclaimer: I only own Bella and her family. Also, Dumbledore's speech is taken from the book.

The Return of the Dark Lord

Draco and I, along with the rest of the Slytherins, were sitting in the quidditch stands in the dark. Draco had his arm around my shoulders and I was cuddled against him. The third task was by far the most boring. Though we hadn't been able to see what went on in the second task since it was underwater, we'd at least been able to see what magic the champions were using to complete the task. It would have been more interesting if the stands were situated so that we could see into the maze. I supposed the judges didn't want the champions to be distracted by (or to receive any advice from) the audience. The highlight of the evening so far had been when red sparks shot out of the maze and Delacour had been brought out unconscious.

The dread that I felt when I looked into the crystal ball had largely subsided. It helped that I had Draco's arm around me. I mean, who wouldn't feel great under those circumstances? Although, I was still worried about what would come of the final task. Perhaps it was merely Delacour being attacked into unconsciousness, but I doubted it.

"It's not hard to see why people get so excited over the Triwizard Tournament when for half the time you're sitting around doing nothing isn't it?" Blaise asked sarcastically.

"Is there anything in the world that truly interests you, Blaise?" I asked.

"No, not particularly," he responded.

I rolled my eyes and moved closer to Draco. Draco spoke up, "They could at least show an image of what's going on in the maze where all of us could see it; like they did for the Quidditch World Cup. They put up a large image showing all of the players at the beginning of the game."

"They probably didn't want to waste such magic on school children," Blaise replied.

We didn't have to wait much longer for the final task to end; soon Potter appeared outside the maze with the trophy and what looked like an unconscious Diggory. "Well, one good thing certainly came of this," Draco said somewhat cheerfully. "Potter sure is cut up bad." Indeed, Potter did appear to have many cuts and bruises, but why was he clinging to Diggory like that? Had the maze been so traumatizing?

Before long, the appearance of Potter and Diggory threw things into chaos. Within a few minutes, something began to run through the crowd like a cry. "What are they saying?" Blaise asked curiously.

I leaned forward, straining to hear, and found out. Cedric Diggory was dead. "Diggory," I whispered, "he's dead."

"What?" Draco asked, surprised.

I had been correct, the terrible feeling I received from the image of the maze was that one of the champions would die. Unfortunately, it had not been Delacour. I wondered what had killed him. I couldn't see any obvious death wounds on him, but I was rather high up.

"Pity it wasn't Potter," Draco said. I looked at him in surprise. Diggory was the one who Draco had been supporting all year long. Draco was the one who made the Support Diggory/Potter Stinks badges. Had he merely supported Diggory out of spite for Potter?

"What?" Draco asked noticing my look.

"One of our classmates is dead. Aren't you at least shocked?"

Draco shrugged. "We knew people might die in this tournament. Diggory knew the risk, he tried out anyway." Though Draco said this, I noticed his skin looked paler than normal. His callousness still bothered me, although I now knew he didn't mean it entirely. "Don't tell me you're upset over his death?"

"Well, I'm not going to cry about it. It hardly affects me, but you don't exactly expect any of your classmates to drop dead, now do you?"

The end of the year feast was a somber affair. I was willing to bet that normally it was quite festive, but given the circumstances that hardly would have been appropriate. The entire Great Hall was decorated in black cloth to signify mourning. The usual noise during meal times was much more subdued today.

"You would almost think that someone important had died," Draco scorned. "It's not as if this shouldn't have been expected. What, did everyone assume that the entire tournament would go perfectly well and no one would receive more than a few bumps and bruises?" I vaguely wondered if Draco's response would be different if the champion who had died had been from Slytherin rather than Hufflepuff.

"They did change a lot of things to make the tournament less dangerous," Blaise said. "I expect this made people believe that no one would be seriously harmed."

As Professor Dumbledore got up to talk, silence fell over the Great Hall. "The end of another year. There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight, but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

I stood and help up my glass along with the rest of the school. Dumbledore went on to speak of what a great person Diggory had been and then he said, "His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about. Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Oh no. No, no, no. I'd always feared that the Dark Lord would come back, but had never dreamed it would be so quickly. That it would happen when I was only in my fourth year of school.

"The Ministry of magic does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so—either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

There were only two times I could remember being grateful to Professor Dumbledore. The first was when he let me transfer from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts. The second was now. I was well aware that there were many adults who would not have told us this information; they would have told us some lie to cover up Diggory's death.

I noticed that Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle and muttered something. I worried over what it was. I hoped it wasn't something positive in relation to the Dark Lord. If it was, then I probably didn't want to know what he said.

Dumbledore continued on, "There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's Death. I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter. Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort. He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

So, that explained what I felt when I saw the maze in the crystal ball. Of course, it hadn't merely been someone dying, but the Dark Lord himself coming back. As I previously mentioned, I didn't see every day events (though it's callous to say, the death of one student (unless, perhaps, it had been Potter) did not have much effect in the grand scheme of things), but much larger events of which I had little understanding. That was why I had felt so much dread, not because a student was going to die, but because something much more evil was going to occur. If I was more experienced in the art of divination, I probably would have realized I had seen something bigger, but it wouldn't have done me any good. It wouldn't have changed anything, aside from making me feel even more dread about what was coming in the third task.

I tuned back into what Professor Dumbledore was saying. "It is my belief—and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken—that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

Dumbledore sat back down and the students went back to the feast. Due to the way I was raised, I didn't understand the obsession of choosing right or wrong. My parents had trod the middle path for years, and had done quite well by it so far.

Blaise made a movement and I looked up. When he caught my eye he said, "And so, it begins again."

I was somber as I entered the Hogwarts express to return home with Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. As we sat down in a compartment, Draco turned to me and asked, "What's wrong, Bella?"

I turned to him and quietly said, "Our world is about to be thrown into turmoil, and you're asking me what's wrong? All of our futures, no matter how far ahead they were planned out, have just changed drastically."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Draco responded. "The world will be better after the Dark Lord has taken over."

"You really think so, Draco? You think that the world will be better when we are in a war encompassing the entire magical world and the muggle world? We now have a bloody future ahead of us, and no matter which way the war goes, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better."

"Why are you being so pessimistic? It's not like we'll be in any danger. Our families support the Dark Lord."

"Your families support the Dark Lord. You know very well that my family gave as much support to the ministry as to the Dark Lord. They played both sides very well to make sure they would be in good standing no matter who won the war. It's only my uncle and grandfather who were Death Eaters. My father was never even close."

Blaise gave me an appraising look before saying, "You don't support the Dark Lord."

As it was a statement rather than a question, I considered not answering, but since the answer was just too obvious, I couldn't help myself. "Hermione Granger, a muggle-born witch is one of my best friends. Of course I don't support the Dark Lord."

Our conversation reminded me why I was so deeply grateful to Professor Dumbledore for telling us the truth about the Dark Lord returning. A reason I didn't particularly want to think about, but needed to. The main reason I had come to Hogwarts, the personal mission that was so important to me, was to convince Draco and Blaise to not throw their lives away by becoming Death Eaters. The return of the Dark Lord made my goal much, much more difficult.

A/N: So, as stated in the first chapter, this was something I wrote in high school, and fourth year at Hogwarts is all that I wrote, which means I'm done for now. If there's enough interest, I might continue on with the next year.

Thanks so much to everyone who favorited, followed, and commented on this story!


End file.
